'mrwrrnmmuM 

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THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


\ 


STATE  NORMAL  SCHOOL 


tINl--  ■LI?0-RW!a 


LIBRARY 


THE  ASCENT  OF  MAN. 


THE  LOWELL  LECTURES 


ON 


THE  ASCENT  OF  MAN 


^'357 


HENRY   DRUMMOND, 

LL.  D.,  F.  R.  S.  E.,   F.  G.  S. 


SEVENTH    EDITION. 


NEW  YORK 
JAMES  POTT  &  CO.,   PUBLISHERS 

FOURTH  AVENUE  AND  221)  STREET 
1808 


Copyrighted  1894 

BY 

HENRY    DRUMMOND. 


Press  of  J.  J.  Little  &  Co. 
Astor  Place,  New  York 


^  G  (9 

3)     "i^    OL 


PREFACE. 


'-'  The  more  I  think  of  it,"  says  Ruskin,  "  I  find  this 
conclusion  more  impressed  upon  me — that  tlie  greatest 
thing  a  Imman  soul  ever  does  in  this  world  is  to  see 
something,  and  tell  what  it  saw  in  a  plain  way."  In 
these  pages  an  attempt  is  made  to  "  tell  in  a  plain 
way  "  a  few  of  the  things  which  Science  is  now  seeing 
with  regard  to  the  Ascent  of  Man.  Whether  these 
seeings  are  there  at  all  is  another  matter.  But,  even 
if  visions,  every  thinking  mind,  through  whatever 
medium,  should  look  at  them.  What  Science  has  to 
say  about  himself  is  of  transcendent  interest  to  Man, 
and  the  practical  bearings  of  this  theme  are  coming 
to  be  more  vital  than  any  on  the  field  of  knowledge. 
The  thread  which  binds  the  facts  is,  it  is  true,  but  a 
hypothesis.  As  the  theory,  nevertheless,  with  which 
at  present  all  scientific  work  is  being  done,  it  is  as- 
sumed in  every  page  that  follows. 

Though  its  stand-point  is  Evolution  and  its  subject 
Man,  this  book  is  far  from  being  designed  to  j)rove 
that  Man  has  relations,  compromising  or  otherwise, 
with  lower  animals.  Its  theme  is  Ascent,  not  Descent, 
It  is  a  Story,  not  an  Argument.    And  Evolution,  in 


PREFACE. 


the  narrow  sense  in  which  it  is  often  used  when  ap- 
phed  to  Man,  plays  little  part  in  the  drama  outlined 
here.  So  far  as  the  general  scheme  of  Evolution  is 
introduced — and  in  the  Introduction  and  elsewhere 
this  is  done  at  length — the  object  is  the  important  one 
of  pointing  out  how  its  nature  has  been  misconceived, 
indeed  how  its  greatest  factor  has  been  overlooked  in 
almost  all  contemporary  scientific  thinking.  Evo- 
lution was  given  to  the  modern  world  out  of  focus, 
was  first  seen  by  it  out  of  focus,  and  has  remained 
out  of  focus  to  the  present  hour.  Its  general  basis 
has  never  been  re-examined  since  the  time  of  Mr. 
Darwin ;  and  not  only  such  speculative  sciences  as 
Teleology,  but  Avorking  sciences  like  Sociology,  have- 
been  led  astray  by  a  fundamental  omission.  An  Evo- 
lution Theory  drawn  to  scale,  and  with  the  lights  and 
shadows  properly  adjusted — adjusted  to  the  whole 
truth  and  reality  of  Nature  and  of  Man — is  needed  at 
present  as  a  standard  for  modern  thought;  and  tliough 
a  reconstruction  of  such  magnitude  is  not  here  j)re- 
sumed,  a  primary  object  of  these  pages  is  to  supply 
at  least  the  accents  for  such  a  scheme. 

Beyond  an  attempted  re-adjustment  of  the  accents 
there  is  nothing  here  for  the  specialist — except,  it  may 
be,  the  reflection  of  his  own  work.  Nor,  apart  from 
Teleology,  is  there  anything  for  the  theologian.  The 
limitations  of  a  lecture-audience  made  the  treatment 
of  such  themes  as  might  appeal  to  him  impossible ; 
while  owing  to  the  brevity  of  the  course,  the  Ascent 
had  to  be  stopped  at  a  point  Avhere  all  the  higher  in- 
terest begins.  All  that  the  present  volume  covers  is 
the  Ascent  of  Man,  the  Individual,  during  the  eaiiier 
stages  of  his  evolution.     It  is  a  study  in  embryos,  lir 


PREFACE.  vlt 


rudiments,  in  installations ;  the  scene  is  the  primeval 
forest;  the  date,  the  world's  dawn.  Tracing  his  rise 
as  far  as  Family  Life,  this  history  does  not  even 
follow  him  into  the  Tribe ;  and  as  it  is  only  then  that 
social  and  moral  life  begins  in  earnest,  no  formal  dis- 
cussion of  these  high  themes  occurs.  All  the  higher 
forces  and  phenomena  with  which  the  sciences  of 
Psychology,  Ethics,  and  Theology  usually  deal  come 
on  the  world's  stage  at  a  later  date,  and  no  one  need 
be  surprised  if  the  semi-savage  with  whom  we  leave 
off  is  found  wanting  in  so  many  of  the  higher  poten- 
tialities of  a  human  being. 

The  Ascent  of  Mankind,  as  distinguished  from  the 
Ascent  of  the  Individual,  was  orginally  summarized  in 
one  or  two  closing  lectures,  but  this  stupendous  sub- 
ject would  require  a  volume  for  itself,  and  these  frag- 
ments have  been  omitted  for  the  present.  Doubtless 
it  may  disappoint  some  that  at  the  close  of  all  the  be- 
wildering vicissitudes  outlined  here,  Man  should  ap- 
pear, after  all,  so  poor  a  creature.  But  the  great  lines- 
of  his  youth  are  the  lines  of  his  maturity,  and  it  is 
only  by  studying  these,  in  themselves  and  in  what 
they  connote,  that  the  nature  of  Evolution  and  the- 
quality  of  Human  Progress  can  be  perceived. 


HENRY  DRUMMOXD. 


CONTENTS. 


INTRODUCTION. 

PAGE 

I.  Evolution  in  General 1 

II.  The  Missing  Factor  in  Current  Theories 11 

III.  Why  was  Evolution  the  Method  Chosen 36 

rv.  Evolution  and  Sociology 41 


CHAPTER  I. 
THE  ASCENT  OF  THE  BODY 59 

CHAPTER  n. 
THE  SCAFFOLDING  LEFT  IN  THE  BODY 77 


X  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  III. 

PAGE 

THE  ARREST  OF  THE  BODY 99 


CHAPTER  IV. 
THE  DAWN  OF  MIND 119 


CHAPTER  V. 
THE  EVOLUTION  OF  LANGUAGE 153 


CHAPTER  VI. 
THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  LIFE 189 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  STRUGGLE  kDR  THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS 215 


CONTENTS.  xl 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

PAGE 

THE  EVOLUTION  OF  A  MOTHER 267 


CHAPTER  IX 
THE  EVOLUTION  OF  A  FATHER 293 


CHAPTER  X. 

INVOLUTION 319 


INTRODUCTION. 

-^  I. 

EVOLUTION  IN  GENERAL. 

The  last  romance  of  Science,  the  most  daring  it  has 
ever  tried  to  pen,  is  the  Story  of  the  Ascent  of  Man. 
"Withheld  from  all  the  wistful  eyes  that  have  gone  be- 
fore, whose  reverent  ignorance  forbade  their  wisest 
minds  to  ask  to  see  it,  this  final  volume  of  Natural 
History  has  begun  to  open  with  our  century's  close. 
In  the  monographs  of  Ilis  and  jMinot,  the  Emljryology 
of  Man  has  already  received  a  just  expression;  Darwin 
and  Ilaeckel  have  traced  the  origin  of  the  Animal- 
Body;  the  researches  of  Romanes  mark  a  beginning 
with  the  Evolution  of  Mind ;  Herbert  Spencer  has 
elaborated  theories  of  the  development  of  Morals ; 
Edward  Caird  of  the  involution  of  Religion.  Supple- 
menting the  contributions  of  these  authorities,  verify- 
ing, criticising,  combating,  rebutting,  there  works  a 
multitude  of  others  who  have  devoted  their  lives  to 
the  same  rich  problems,  and  already  every  chapter  ot 
the  bewildei'ing  story  has  found  its  editors. 

Yet,  singular  though  the  omission  may  seem,  no 
connected  outline  of  this  great  drama  has  yet  been 


INTRODUCTION. 


given  us.  These  researches,  prelimhiary  reconnais- 
sances though  they  be,  are  surely  worthy  of  behig 
looked  upon  as  a  whole.  No  one  can  say  that  this 
multitude  of  observers  is  not  in  earnest,  nor  their 
work  honest,  nor  their  methods  competent  to  the  last 
powers  of  science.  Whatever  the  uncertainty  of  the 
field,  it  is  due  to  these  pioneer  minds  to  treat  their 
labor  with  respect.  What  they  see  in  the  unexplored 
land  in  which  they  travel  belongs  to  the  world.  By 
just  such  methods,  and  by  just  such  men,  the  map  of 
the  world  of  thought  is  filled  in — here  from  the  trac- 
ing up  of  some  great  river,  there  from  a  bearing  taken 
roughly  in  a  darkened  sky,  yonder  from  a  sudden  glint 
of  the  sun  on  a  far-off  mountain -peak,  or  by  a  swift 
induction  of  an  adventurous  mind  from  a  momentary 
glimpse  of  a  natural  law.  So  knowledge  grows ;  and 
in  a  century  which  has  added  to  the  sum  of  human 
learning  more  than  all  the  centuries  that  are  past,  it  is 
not  to  be  conceived  that  some  further  revelation 
should  not  await  us  on  the  highest  themes  of  all. 

The  day  is  forever  past  when  science  need  apolo- 
gize for  treating  Man  as  an  object  of  natural  research. 
Hamlet's  "  being  of  large  discourse,  looking  before  and 
after"  is  withal  a  part  of  Nature,  and  can  neither  be 
made  larger  nor  smaller,  anticipate  less  nor  prophesy 
less,  because  we  investigate,  and  perhaps  discover,  the 
secret  of  his  past.  And  should  that  past  be  proved  to 
be  related  in  undreamed-of  ways  to  that  of  all  other 
things  in  Nature,  "  all  other  things  "  have  that  to  gain 
by  the  alliance  which  philosophy  and  theology  for 
centuries  have  striven  to  win  for  them.  Every  step 
in  the  proof  of  the  oneness  in  a  universal  evolutionary 
process  of  this  divine  Immanity  of  ours  is  a  step  in  the 


EVOLUTION  IN  GENERAL. 


proof  of  the  divinity  of  all  lower  things.  And  what  is 
of  hifinitely  greater  moment,  each  footprint  discovered 
in  the  Ascent  of  Man  is  a  guide  to  the  step  to  be 
taken  next.  To  discover  the  rationale  of  social  prog- 
ress is  the  ambition  of  this  age.  There  is  an  extraor- 
dinary human  interest  abroad  about  this  present 
world  itself,  a  yearning  desire,  not  from  curious  but 
for  practical  reasons,  to  find  some  light  upon  the 
course ;  and  as  the  goal  comes  nearer  the  eagerness 
passes  into  suspense  to  know  the  shortest  and  the 
quickest  road  to  reach  it.  Hence  the  Ascent  of  jMan 
is  not  only  tlie  noblest  problem  which  science  can  ever 
study,  but  the  practical  bearings  of  this  theme  are 
great  beyond  any  other  on  the  roll  of  knowledge. 

Now  that  the  first  rash  rush  of  the  evolutionary 
invasion  is  past,  and  the  sins  of  its  youth  atoned  for 
by  sober  concession,  Evolution  is  seen  to  be  neither 
more  nor  less  than  the  story  of  creation  as  told  by 
those  who  know  it  best.  "Evolution,"  saj^s  Mr. 
Iluxley,  "  or  development  is  at  present  employed  in 
biology  as  a  general  name  for  the  history  of  the  steps 
by  wliich  any  living  being  has  acquired  the  morpho- 
logical and  th^physiological  characters  which  dis- 
..tinguish  it."  ^  Tliough  applied  specifically  to  plants 
and  animals  this  definition  expresses  the  chief  sense 
in  which  Evolution  is  to  be  used  scientifically  at 
present.  We  shall  use  the  word,  no  doubt,  in  others 
of  its  many  senses  ;  but  after  all  the  blood  spilt,  Evo- 
lution is  simply  "history,"  a  "history  of  steps,"  a 
"  general  name,"  for  the  history  of  tlie  steps  by  which 
the  world  has  come  to  be  what  it  is.  According  to 
this  general  definition,  the  story  of  Evolution  is  nar- 
'  Encyclopaedia  Britannica,  9th  Ed. 


INTRODUCTION. 


rative.  It  may  be  wrongly  told ;  it  may  bo  colored^ 
exaggerated,  over  or  understated  like  the  record  of 
any  other  set  of  facts  ;  it  may  be  told  with  a  theo- 
logical bias  or  with  an  anti-theological  bias  ;  theories 
of  the  process  may  be  added  by  this  thinker  or  by 
that ;  but  these  are  not  of  the  substance  of  the  story. 
Whether  history  is  told  by  a  Gibbon  or  a  Green  the 
facts  remain,  and  whether  Evolution  be  told  by  a 
Ilaeckel  or  a  "Wallace  we  accept  the  narrative  so  far 
as  it  is  a  rendering  of  Xature,  and  no  more.  It  is 
true,  before  this  story  can  be  fully  told,  centuries  still 
must  pass.  At  present  there  is  not  a  chapter  of  the 
record  that  is  wholly  finished.  The  manuscript  is 
already  worn  with  erasures,  the  writing  is  often 
blurred,  the  very  language  is  uncouth  and  strange. 
Yet  even  now  the  outline  of  a  contiiuious  stoi-y  is  be- 
ginning to  appear — a  story  whose  chief  credential  lies 
in  the  fact  that  no  imagination  of  man  could  have  de- 
signed a  spectacle  so  wonderful,  or  worked  out  a  plot 
at  once  so  intricate  and  so  transcendently  simple. 

This  story  will  be  outlined  here  partly  for  the  story 
and  partly  for  a  purpose.  A  historian  dare  not  have 
a  prejudice,  but  he  camiot  escape  a  purpose — the  pur- 
pose, conscious  or  unconscious,  of  unfolding  the  pur- 
pose which  lies  behind  the  facts  which  he  narrates. 
The  interest  of  a  drama — the  authorship  of  the  play 
apart — is  in  the  players,  their  character,  their  motives, 
and  the  tendency  of  their  action.  It  is  impossible  to 
treat  these  players  as  automata.  Even  if  automata, 
tlrose  in  the  audience  are  not.  Hence,  where  inter- 
pretation seems  lawful,  or  comment  warranted  by  the 
facts,  neither  will  be  withheld. 

To  give  an  account  of  Evolution,  it  need  scarcely  be 


EVOLUTION  IX  GENERAL. 


remarked,  is  not  to  account  for  it.  Xo  living  thinker 
has  3^et  found  it  possible  to  account  for  Evolution. 
IMr.  Herbert  Spencer's  famous  definition  of  Evolution 
as  "a  cliange  from  an  indetinite  incoherent  homogene- 
ity to  a  definite  coherent  heterogeneity  through  contin- 
uous differentiations  and  integrations  "  ^— the  formula 
of  which  the  Contemporanj  Ilevietoer  remarked  that 
"the  universe  may  well  have  heaved  a  sigh  of  relief 
when,  through  the  cerebration  of  an  eminent  thinker, 
it  had  been  delivered  of  this  account  of  itself" — is 
simply  a  summary  of  results,  and  tlirows  no  light, 
though  it  is  often  supposed  to  do  so,  upon  ultimate 
causes.  While  it  is  true,  as  Mr.  Wallace  affirms  in  his 
latest  work,  that  "Descent  with  modification  is  now 
universally  accepted  as  the  order  of  nature  in  the 
organic  world,"  there  is  everywhere  at  this  moment 
the  most  disturbing  uncertainty  as  to  how  the  Ascent 
even  of  species  luis  been  brought  about.  The  attacks 
on  the  Darwinian  theory  from  the  outside  were  never 
so  keen  as  are  the  controversies  now  raging  in  scien- 
tific circles,  over  the  fundamental  principles  of  Dar- 
winism itself.  On  at  least  two  main  points — sexual 
selection  and  the  origin  of  the  higher  mental  charac- 
teristics of  man — Mr.  Alfred  Russel  Wallace,  co-dis- 
coverer with  Darwin  of  the  principle  of  I^atural  Selec- 
tion though  he  be,  directly  opposes  his  colleague. 
The  powerful  attack  of  Weismann  on  the  Darwinian 
assumption  of  tlie  inheritability  of  acquired  cliaracters 
has  opened  one  of  the  liveliest  controversies  of  recent 
years,  and  the  whole  field  of  science  is  liot  with  con- 
troversies and  discussions.  In  his  "  Gei'm-Plasm,"  the 
German  naturalist  believes  himself  to  have  finally 
^  Data  of  Ethics,  p.  G5. 


6  INTRODUCTION. 


disposed  of  both  Darwin's  "gemmules  "  and  Herbert 
Spencer's  "  primordial  units,"  wliile  Eimer  breaks  a 
lance  with  Weismann  in  defence  of  Darwin,  and 
Herbert  Spencer  replies  for  himself,  assuring  us  that 
"either  there  has  been  inheritance  of  acquired  charac- 
ters or  there  has  been  no   evolution." 

It  is  the  greatest  compliment  to  Darwinism  that  it 
should  have  survived  to  deserve  this  era  of  criticism. 
Meantime  all  prudent  men  can  do  no  other  than  hold 
their  judgment  in  suspense  both  as  to  that  specific 
theory  of  one  department  of  Evolution  which  is  called 
Darwinism,  and  as  to  the  factors  and  causes  of  Evolu- 
tion itself.  No  one  asks  more  of  Evolution  at  present 
than  permission  to  use  it  as  a  working  theory.  Un- 
doubtedly there  are  cases  now  before  Science  where  it 
is  more  than  theory — the  demonstration  from  Yale, 
for  instance,  of  the  Evolution  of  the  Horse;  and  from 
Steinheim  of  the  transmutation  of  Planorbis.  \\\  these 
cases  the  missing  links  have  come  in  one  after  an- 
other, and  in  series  so  perfect,  that  the  evidence  for 
their  evolution  is  irresistible.  "  On  the  evidence  of 
Palaeontology,"  says  Mr.  Iluxley  in  the  Encydopcedia 
J]yitannica,  "  the  evolution  of  many  existing  forms  of 
animal  life  from  their  predecessors  is  no  longer  an  hy- 
pothesis but  an  historical  fact."  And  even  as  to  Man, 
most  naturalists  agree  with  Mr.  Wallace  who  "fully 
accepts  jNIr.  Darwin's  conclusion  as  to  the  essential 
identity  of  JMan's  bodily  structure  Vv'ith  that  of  the 
higher  mammalia  and  his  descent  from  some  ancestral 
form  common  to  man  and  the  anthropoid  apes,"  for 
"  the  evidence  of  such  descent  appears  overwhelming 
and  conclusive."  ^  Dut  as  to  the  development  of  the 
'^Darwinism,  p.  451. 


EVOLUTION  IN  GENERAL. 


ijcliole  Man  it  is  sufficient  for  the  present  to  rank  it  as 
a  tiieory,  no  matter  how  impressive  the  conviction  be 
that  it  is  more.  Without  some  liypotliesis  no  work 
can  ever  be  done,  and,  as  every  one  knows,  many  of 
the  greatest  contributions  to  human  knowledge  liave 
been  made  by  tlie  use  of  tlieories  either  seriously 
imperfect  or  demonstrably  false.  This  is  the  age  of 
the  evolution  of  Evolution.  All  thoughts  that  the 
Evolutionist  works  with,  all  theories  and  generaliza- 
tions, have  been  themselves  evolved  and  are  now 
being  evolved.  Even  were  his  theory  perfected  its 
first  lesson  would  be  that  it  was  itself  but  a  phase  of 
the  Evolution  of  further  opinion,  no  more  fixed  than  a 
species,  no  more  final  than  the  theory  which  it  dis- 
placed. Of  all  men  the  Evolutionist,  by  the  very 
nature  of  his  calling,  the  mere  tools  of  his  craft,  his 
understanding  of  his  hourly  shifting  place  in  this 
always  moving  and  ever  more  mysterious  world,  must 
be  humble,  tolerant,  and  undogmatic. 

These,  nevertheless,  are  cold  words  with  which  to 
speak  of  a  Vision — for  Evolution  is  after  all  a 
Vision — which  is  revolutionizing  the  world  of  Nature 
and  of  thought,  and,  within  living  memory,  has  opened 
up  avenues  into  the  past  and  vistas  into  the  future 
such  as  science  has  never  witnessed  before.  While 
many  of  t<ie  details  of  the  theory  of  Evolution  are  in 
the  crucible  of  criticism,  and  Avliile  the  field  of  modern 
science  changes  with  such  rapidity  that  in  almost 
every  department  the  text-books  of  ten  years  ago  are 
obsolete  to-day,  it  is  fair  to  add  that  no  one  of  these 
changes,  nor  all  of  them  together,  have  touched  the 
general  theory  itself  except  to  establish  its  strength, 
its  value,  and  its  universality.    Even  more  remarkable 


8  INTRODUCTION. 


than  the  rapidity  of  its  conquest  is  the  authority  Avith 
■uiiich  the  doctrine  of  development  has  seemed  to 
speak  to  tlie  most  authoritative  minds  of  our  time. 
Of  those  who  are  in  the  front  rank,  of  those  wlio  by 
their  knowledge  have,  by  common  consent,  the  right  to 
speak,  there  are  scarcely  any  who  do  not  in  some  form 
employ  it  in  working  and  in  thinking.  Authority 
may  mean  little;  the  world  has  often  been  mistaken; 
but  when  minds  so  different  as  those  of  Charles 
Darwin  and  of  T.  II.  Green,  of  Herbert  Spencer  and  of 
Robert  Browning,  build  half  the  labors  of  their  life  on 
this  one  law,  it  is  impossible,  and  especially  in  the  ab- 
sence of  any  other  even  competing  principle  at  the  pres- 
ent hour,  to  treat  it  as  a  baseless  dream.  Only  the 
peculiar  nature  of  this  great  generalization  can  account 
for  the  extraordinary  enthusiasm  of  this  acceptance. 

I  Evolution  has  done  for  Time  what  Astronomy  has 
done  for  Space. ')  As  sublime  to  the  reason  as  the 
Science  of  the  Stars,  as  overpowering  to  the  imagina- 
tion, it  has  thrown  the  universe  into  a  fresh  perspec- 
tive, and  given  the  human   mind  a  new  dimension. 

'  Evolution  involves  not  so  much  a  change  of  opinion  as 
a  change  in  man's  whole  view  of  the  world  and  of  life. 
It  is  not  the  statement  of  a  mathematical  proposition 
which  men  are  called  upon  to  declare  true  or  false.  It 
is  a  method  of  looking  upon  Nature.  Science  for  cent- 
uries devoted  itself  to  the  cataloguing  of  facts  and 
the  discovery  of  laws.  Each  worker  toiled  in  his  own 
little  place — the  geologist  in  his  quarry,  the  botanist 
in  his  garden,  the  biologist  in  his  laboratory,  the 
astronomer  in  his  observatory,  the  historian  in  his 
library,  the  archaeologist  in  his  museum.  Suddenly 
these  workers  looked  up ;  they  spoke  to  one  another ; 


EVOLUTION  IN  GENERAL.  9 

they  had  each  discovered  a  law ;  they  whispered  its 
name.  It  was  Evohition.  Henceforth  their  work  was 
one,  science  was  one,  the  world  Avas  one,  and  mind, 
wliich  discovered  tlie  oneness,  was  one. 

Such  being  the  scope  of  the  tlieory,  it  is  essential  that 
for  its  interpretation  this  universal  character  be  rec- 
ognized, and  no  phenomenon  in  nature  or  in  human 
nature  be  left  out  of  the  final  reckoning.  It  is  equally 
clear  that  in  making  that  interpretation  we  must  begin 
with  the  final  product,  Man.  If  Evolution  can  be 
proved  to  include  Man,  the  whole  course  of  Evolution 
and  the  Avhole  scheme  of  Nature  from  that  moment 
assume  a  new  signilicance.  The  beginning  must  tlien 
be  interpreted  from  the  end,  not  tlie  end  from  tiie 
beginning.  An  engineering  workshop  is  unintelligible 
until  we  reach  the  room  where  the  completed  engine 
stands.  Everything  culminates  in  that  final  product, 
is  contained  in  it,  is  explained  by  it.  The  Evolution  of 
Man  is  also  the  complement  and  corrective  of  all  other 
forms  of  Evolution.  From  this  height  only  is  tliere  a 
full  view,  a  true  perspective,  a  consistent  Avorld.  The 
whole  mistake  of  naturalism  has  been  to  interpret 
Nature  from  the  stand-point  of  the  atom — to  study 
the  machinery  which  drives  this  great  moving  world 
simply  as  machinery,  forgetting  that  the  ship  has  any 
passengers,  or  the  passengers  any  captain,  or  the 
captain  any  course.  It  is  as  great  a  mistake,  on 
the  other  hand,  for  the  theologian  to  separate  olf 
the  ship  from  the  passengers  as  for  the  naturalist  to 
separate  off  the  passengers  from  the  ship.  It  is  he 
wlio  cannot  include  Man  among  the  links  of  Evolution 
who  has  greatly  to  fear  the  theory  of  development. 
In  liis  jealousy  for  that  religion  which  seems  to  him 


10  INTRODUCTION. 


higher  than  science,  he  removes  at  once  the  rational 
basis  from  rehgion  and  the  legitimate  crown  from 
science,  forgetting  that  in  so  doing  he  offers  to  the 
world  an  unnatural  religion  and  an  inhuman  science. 
The  cure  for  all  the  small  mental  disorders  which 
spring  up  around  restricted  applications  of  Evolution 
is  to  extend  it  fearlessly  in  all  directions  as  far  as  the 
mind  can  carry  it  and  the  facts  allow,  till  each  man, 
working  at  his  subordinate  part,  is  compelled  to  own, 
and  adjust  himself  to,  the  whole. 

If  the  theological  mind  be  called  upon  to  make  this 
expansion,  the  scientific  man  must  be  asked  to  enlarge 
his  view  in  another  direction.  If  he  insists  upon 
including  Man  in  his  scheme  of  Evolution,  he  must 
see  to  it  that  he  include  the  whole  Man.  For  him 
at  least  no  form  of  Evolution  is  scientific,  or  is  to  be 
considered,  which  does  not  include  the  whole  Man, 
and  all  that  is  in  Man,  and  all  the  work  and  thought 
and  life  and  aspiration  of  Man.  The  great  moral  facts, 
the  moral  forces  so  far  as  they  are  proved  to  exist,  the 
moral  consciousness  so  far  as  it  is  real,  must  come 
within  its  scope.  Human  History  must  be  as  much  a 
part  of  it  as  Natural  History.  Tlie  social  and  religions 
forces  must  no  more  be  left  outside  than  the  forces 
of  gravitation  or  of  life.  The  reason  why  the  natural- 
ist does  not  usually  include  these  among  the  factors  in 
Evolution  is  not  oversight,  but  undersight.  Some- 
time:;, no  doubt,  he  may  take  at  their  word  those  who 
assure  him  that  Evolution  has  nothing  to  do  with 
those  higher  things,  but  the  main  reason  Is  simply  that 
his  woi-k  does  not  lie  on  the  levels  where  tliose  forces 
come  into  play.  Tlie  specialist  is  not  to  be  blamed  for 
this  J  limitation  is  his  strength.     But  when  the  special- 


THE  MISSING  FACTOR  IN  CURRENT  THEORIES.    11 

ist  proceeds  to  reconstruct  the  universe  from  his  little 
corner  of  it,  and  especially  from  his  level  of  it,  he  not 
only  injures  science  and  philosophy,  hut  may  fatally 
mislead  his  neighhors.  The  man  who  is  busy  with 
tlie  stars  will  never  come  across  Natural  Selection,  yet 
surely  must  he  allow  for  Natural  Selection  in  his  con- 
struction of  the  world  as  a  Avhole.  He  Avho  works 
among  star-fish  will  encounter  little  of  Mental  Evolu- 
tion, yet  Avill  he  not  deny  that  it  exists.  The  stars 
have  voices,  but  there  are  other  voices ;  the  star-fishes 
have  activities,  but  there  are  other  activities.  Man, 
body,  soul,  spirit,  are  not  only  to  be  considered,  but 
are  first  to  be  considered  in  any  theory  of  the  world. 
You  cannot  describe  the  life  of  kings,  or  arrange  their 
kingdoms,  from  the  cellar  beneath  the  palace.  "  Art," 
as  Browning  reminds  us, 

"  Must  fumble  for  the  whole,  once  fixing  on  a  part, 
Ilowever  poor,  surpass  the  fragment,  and  aspire  -^ 
To  reconstruct  thereby  the  ultimate  eutire."  ^ 


II. 

THE  3IISSING  FACTOR  IN  CURRENT  THEORIES. 

But  it  is  not  so  much  in  ignoring  Man  that  evo- 
lutionary philosophy  has  gone  asti-ay ;  for  of  that 
error  it  has  seriously  begun  to  re])ent.  What  we 
have  now  to  charge  against  it,  what  is  a  main  object 
of  these  pages  to  point  out,  is  that  it  has  misread 
Nature  herself.  In  "fixing  on  a  part"  Avhereby  to 
"  reconstruct  the  ultimate,"  it  has  fixed  upon  a  part 


12  INTRODUCTIOy. 


which  is  not  the  most  vital  part,  and  the  reconstruc- 
tions, therefore,  have  come  to  be  wholly  out  of  focus. 
Fix  u[)()n  the  M'rong-  "  part,"  and  the  instability  of  the 
fabric  built  upon  it  is  a  foregone  conclusion.  Now, 
although  reconstructions  of  the  cosmos  in  the  light  of 
Evolution  are  the  chief  feature  of  the  science  of  our 
time,  in  almost  no  case  does  even  a  hint  of  the  true 
scientific  stand-i)oint  appear  to  be  perceived.  And 
although  it  anticipates  much  that  we  should  prefer 
to  leave  untouched  until  it  appears  in  its  natural  set- 
ting, the  gravity  of  the  issues  makes  it  essential  to 
summarize  the  whole  situation  now. 

The  root  of  the  error  lies,  indirectly  rather  than 
directly,  Avith  Mr.  Darwin.  In  1859,  through  the 
publication  of  the  Origin  of  jSpecies,  he  offered  to  the 
world  what  pui'ported  to  be  the  final  clue  to  the 
coui'se  of  living  Nature.  That  clue  was  the  principle 
of  the  Struggle  for  Life.  After  the  years  of  storm 
and  stress  which  follow  the  intrusion  into  the  world 
of  all  great  thoughts,  this  principle  was  universally 
accepted  as  the  key  to  all  the  sciences  which  deal 
with  life.  So  ceaseless  was  j\Ir.  Darwin's  emphasis 
upon  this  factor,  and  so  mastei-ful  his  influence,  that, 
after  the  first  sharp  conflict,  even  the  controversy  died 
down.  With  scarce  a  challenge  the  Struggle  for  Life 
became  accepted  by  the  scientific  world  as  tiie  govern- 
ing factor  in  development,  and  the  drama  of  Evolution 
was  made  to  hinge  entirely  upon  its  action.  It 
became  the  "  part"  from  which  science  henceforth 
went  on  "  to  reconstruct  the  whole,"  and  biolog}'-, 
sociology,  and  teleology,  were  built  anew  on  this 
foundation. 

That  the  Struggle  for  Life  has  been  a  prominent 


THE  MISSING  FACTOR  IN  CURRENT  THEORIES.    13 

actor  in  the  drama  is  certain.  Further  reseai'ch  has 
only  deepened  the  iu)pressiou  of  the  magnitude  and 
universality  of  this  great  and  far-reacliing  law.  But 
that  it  is  the  sole  or  even  the  main  agent  in  the 
process  of  Evolution  must  be  denied.  Creation  is 
a  drama,  and  no  drama  was  ever  put  upon  the 
stage  with  only  one  actor.  The  Struggle  for  Life  is 
the  "Villain"  of  the  piece,  no  more;  and,  like  the 
"Villain"  in  the  play,  its  chief  function  is  to  re-act 
upon  the  other  players  for  higher  ends.  There  is,  in 
point  of  fact,  a  second  factor  which  one  might  venture 
to  call  the  Stn(rffjie  for  the  Life  of  Others,  which  plays 
an  equally  prominent  part.  Even  in  the  early  stages 
of  development,  its  contribution  is  as  real,  while  in  the 
world's  later  progress — under  the  name  of  Altruism — • 
it  assumes  a  sovereignty  before  which  the  earlier 
Struggle  sinks  into  insignificance.  That  this  second 
form  of  Struggle  should  all  but  have  escaped  the 
notice  of  Evolutionists  is  the  more  unaccountable 
since  it  arises,  like  the  first,  out  of  those  fundamental 
functions  of  living  organisms  which  it  is  the  main 
business  of  biological  science  to  investigate.  The 
functions  discharged  by  all  living  things,  plant  and 
animal,  are  two  ^  in  number.  The  first  is  Nutrition, 
the  second  is  Reproduction.  The  first  is  the  basis  of 
the  Struggle  for  Life;  the  second,  of  the  Struggle  for 
the  Life  of  Others.  These  two  functions  run  their 
parallel  course — or  spiral  course,  for  they  con- 
tinuously intertwine — from  the  very  dawn  of  life. 
They  are  involved  in  the  fundamental  nature  of  proto- 

1  There  is  a  third  function — that  of  Co-relalion — but,  to  avoid 
confusing  the  immediate  issue,  this  may  remain  at  present  in  tlie 
badiyround. 


14  IN  TR  OD  UCTION. 


plasm  itself.  They  affect  the  entire  round  of  life ;  they 
determine  the  whole  morphology  of  living  things  ;  in  a 
sense  they  are  life.  Yet,  in  constructing  the  fabric  of 
Evolution,  one  of  these  has  been  taken,  the  other  left. 

Partly  because  of  the  limitations  of  its  purely  physi- 
cal name,  and  partly  because  it  has  never  been  worked 
out  as  an  evolutionary  force,  the  function  of  Repro- 
duction will  require  to  be  introduced  to  the  reader  in 
some  detail.  But  to  realize  its  importance  or  even  to 
understand  it,  it  will  be  necessary  to  recall  to  our 
minds  the  supreme  place  which  function  generally 
holds  in  the  economy  of  life. 

Life  to  an  animal  or  to  a  Man  is  not  a  random  series 
of  efforts.  Its  course  is  set  as  rigidly  as  the  courses 
of  the  stars.  All  its  movements  and  changes,  its 
apparent  deflections  and  perturbations  are  guided  by 
unalterable  purposes  ;  its  energies  and  caprices  defi- 
nitely controlled.  What  controls  it  are  its  functions. 
These  and  these  only  determine  life  ;  living  out  these 
is  life.  Trace  back  any  one,  or  all,  of  the  countless 
activities  of  an  animal's  life,  and  it  will  be  found  that 
they  are  at  bottom  connected  with  one  or  other  of 
the  two  great  functions  which  manifest  themselves  in 
protoplasm.  Take  any  organ  of  the  body — hand  or 
foot,  eye  or  ear,  heart  or  lung — or  any  tissue  of  the 
body — muscle  or  nerve,  bone  or  cartilage — and  it  will 
be  found  to  be  connected  either  with  Nutrition  or  with 
Reproduction,  Just  as  everything  about  an  engine, 
every  bolt,  bar,  valve,  crank,  lever,  wheel,  has  some- 
thing to  do  with  the  work  of  that  engine,  everything 
about  an  animal's  body  has  something  to  do  with  the 
work  prescribed  by  those  two  functions.  An  animal, 
or  a  Man,  is  a  consistent  whole,  a  rational  production. 


THE  MISSING  FACTOR  IN  CURRENT  TnEORIES.    15 

Now  the  rationale  of  living  is  revealed  for  ns  in  proto- 
l^lasm.  Protoplasm  sets  life  its  task.  Living  can  only 
be  done  along  its  lines.  There  start  the  channels  in 
which  all  life  must  run,  and  though  the  channels  bi- 
furcate endlessly  as  time  goes  on,  and  tliough  more  life 
and  fuller  is  ever  coursing  through  them,  it  can  never 
overflow  the  banks  appointed  from  the  beginning. 

But  this  is  not  all.  The  activities  even  of  the 
higlier  life,  though  not  qualitatively  limited  by  the 
lower,  are  determined  by  these  same  lines.  Were 
these  facts  only  relevant  in  the  domain  of  physiology, 
they  would  be  of  small  account  in  a  study  of  the 
Ascent  of  Man.  But  the  more  profoundly  the  Evo- 
lution of  Man  is  investigated  the  more  clearly  is  it 
seen  that  the  whole  course  of  his  development  has 
been  conducted  on  this  fundamental  basis.  Life,  all 
life,  higher  or  lower,  is  an  organic  unity.  Nature  may 
vary  her  effects,  may  introduce  qualitative  changes  so 
stupendous  as  to  make  their  affinities  with  lower 
things  unthinkable,  but  she  has  never  re-laid  the 
foundations  of  the  world.  Evolution  began  with 
protoplasm  and  ended  with  Man,  and  all  tlie  way  be- 
tween, the  development  has  been  a  symmetry  Avhose 
secret  lies  in  the  two  or  three  great  crystallizing 
forces  revealed  to  us  through  this  first  basis. 

Having  realized  the  significance  of  the  phj'siological 
functions,  let  us  now  address  ourselves  to  their  mean- 
ing and  connotations.  The  first,  the  function  of 
Nutrition,  on  which  the  Struggle  foi-  Life  depends, 
requires  no  explanation.  3Ir.  Darwin  was  careful  to 
give  to  his  favorite  phrase,  the  Struggle  for  Life,  a 
wider  meaning  than  that  which  associates  it  merely 
with  Nutrition;  but  this  qualification  seems  largely  to 


16  INTRODUCTION. 


have  been  lost  sight  of — to  some  extent  even  by  him- 
self— and  the  principle  as  it  stands  to-day  in  scientitic 
and  pliilosophioal  discussion  is  practically  synony- 
mous with  the  Struggle  for  Food.  As  time  goes  on 
this  Struggle — at  first  a  conflict  with  Nature  and  the 
elements,  sustained  by  hunger,  and  intensified  by 
competition — assumes  many  disguises,  and  is  ulti- 
mately known  in  the  modern  world  under  the  names 
of  War  and  Industry.  In  these  later  phases  the  early 
function  of  protoplasm  is  obscured,  but  on  the  last 
analysis,  War  and  Industry — pursuits  in  which  half 
the  world  is  now  engaged — are  seen  to  be  simply  its 
natui'al  developments. 

The  implications  of  the  second  function,  Reproduc- 
tion,  lie  further  from  the  surface.  To  say  that  Repro- 
duction is  synonymous  with  the  Struggle  for  the  Life 
of  Others  conveys  at  first  little  meaning,  for  the 
physiological  aspects  of  the  function  persist  in  the 
mind,  and  make  even  a  glimpse  of  its  true  character 
difficult.  In  two  or  three  chapters  in  the  text,  the 
implications  of  this  function  will  be  explained"  at 
length,  and  the  reader  who  is  sufficiently  interested  in 
the  immediate  problem,  or  who  sees  that  there  is  here 
something  to  be  investigated,  may  do  well  to  turn  to 
these  at  once.  Suffice  it  for  the  moment  to  say  that 
the  physiological  aspects  of  the  Struggle  for  the  Life 
of  Others  are  so  overshadowed  even  towards  the  close 
of  the  Animal  Kingdom  by  the  psychical  and  ethical 
that  it  is  scarcely  necessary  to  emphasize  the  former 
at  all.  One's  first  and  natural  associatiou  with  the 
Struggle  for  the  Life  of  Others  is  Avith  something 
done  for  posterity — in  the  plant  the  Struggle  to  pro- 
duce seeds,  in  the  animal  to  beget  young.    But  this  is 


TUE  MISSING  FACTOR  IX  CURRENT  TIIEORIE.>,.    17 

a  preliminary  which,  compared  with  what  directly 
and  indirectly  rises  out  of  it,  may  be  almost  passed 
over.  The  significant  note  is  ethical,  the  development 
of  Other-ism  as  Altruism — its  immediate  and  in- 
evitable outcome.  Watch  any  higher  animal  at  that 
most  critical  of  all  hours — for  itself,  and  for  its  species 
— the  hour  when  it  gives  birth  to  another  creature 
like  itself.  Pass  over  the  purely  physiological  pro- 
cesses of  birth ;  observe  the  behavior  of  the  animal- 
mother  in  presence  of  the  new  and  helpless  life  which 
palpitates  before  her.  There  it  lies,  trembling  in  the 
balance  between  life  and  death.  Hunger  tortures  it ; 
cold  threatens  it ;  danger  besets  it ;  its  blind  existence 
hangs  by  a  thread/  There  is  the  opportunity  of 
Evolution.  Ther^  is  an  opening  appointed  in  the 
physical  order  for  the  introduction  of  a  moral  order. 
If  there  is  more  in  Nature  than  the  selfish  Struggle 
for  Life  the  secret  can  now  be  told.  Hitherto,  the 
world  belonged  to  the  Food-seeker,  the  Self-seeker,  the 
Straggler  for  Life,  the  Father.  Now  is  the  hour  of 
the  Mother.  And,  animal  thougli  she  be,  she  rises  to 
her  task.  And  that  hour,  as  she  ministers  to  hei* 
young,  becomes  to  her,  and  to  the  world,  the  hour  of 
its  holiest  birth. 

Sympathy,  tenderness,  unselfishness,  and  the  long 
list  of  virtues  which  make  up  Altruism,  arc  the  direct 
outcome  and  essential  accomi)animent  of  the  repro- 
ductive process.  Witliout  some  rudimentary  mater- 
nal solicitude  for  the  e<^g  m  the  humblest  forms  of 
life,  or  for  the  young  among  higher  forms,  the  living 
WT)rld  Avould  not  only  suffer,  but  would  cease.  For  a 
time  in  the  life-history  of  every   higher   animal  the 

direct,  personal,  gratuitous,  unrewarded   help  of  an- 
o 


18  INTRODUCTION. 


other  creature  is  a  condition  of  existence.  Even  in 
the  lowliest  world  of  plants  the  labors  of  Maternity 
begin,  and  the  animal  kingdom  closes  with  the  crea- 
tion of  a  class  in  which  this  function  is  perfected  to 
its  last  conceivable  expression.  The  vicarious  prin- 
ciple is  shot  through  and  through  the  whole  vast  web 
of  Nature ;  and  if  one  actor  has  played  a  mightier 
part  than  another  in  the  drama  of  the  past,  it  has 
been  self-sacrifice.  What  more  has  come  into  human- 
ity along  the  line  of  the  Struggle  for  the  Life  of 
Others  will  be  shown  later.  But  it  is  quite  certain 
that,  of  all  the  things  that  minister  to  the  welfare  and 
good  of  Man,  of  all  that  make  the  world  varied  and 
fruitful,  of  all  that  make  society  solid  and  interesting, 
of  all  that  make  life  beautiful  and  glad  and  worthy,  hy 
far  the  larger  part  has  reached  us  through  the  activi- 
ties of  the  Struggle  for  the  Life  of  Others. 

How  grave  the  omission  of  this  supreme  factor  from 
our  reckoning,  how  serious  the  effect  ui)on  our  whole 
view  of  nature,  must  now  appear.  Time  was  when 
the  science  of  Geology  was  interpreted  exclusively  in 
terms  of  the  action  of  a  single  force — fire.  Then 
followed  the  theories  of  an  opposing  school  Avho  saw 
all  the  earth's  formations  to  be  the  result  of  water. 
Any  Biology,  any  Sociology,  any  Evolution,  which  is 
based  on  a  single  factor,  is  as  untrue  as  the  old  Geol- 
ogy. It  is  only  when  both  the  Struggle  for  Life  and 
the  Struggle  for  the  Life  of  Others  are  kept  in  view, 
that  any  scientific  theory  of  Evolution  is  possible. 
Combine  them,  contrast  them,  assign  eacli  its  place, 
allow  for  their  inter-actions,  and  the  scheme  of  Nature 
may  be  worked  out  in  terms  of  them  to  the  last  detail. 
All  along  tlie  line,  through  the  whole  course  of  the 


THE  MISSING  FACTOR  IN  CUERENT  THEORIES.    19 

development,  these  two  functions  act  and  react  upon 
one  another  ;  and  conthiually  as  they  co-operate,  to 
produce  a  single  result,  their  specific  differences  are 
never  lost. 

The  first,  the  Struggle  for  Life,  is,  throughout,  the 
Self-regarding  function  ;  the  second,  the  Other-regard- 
ing function.  Tlie  first,  in  lower  Nature,  obeying  the 
law  of  self-preservation,  devotes  its  energies  to  feed 
itself;  the  other,  obeying  the  law  of  species-preserva- 
tion, to  feed  its  young.  Wliile  the  first  develops  the 
active  virtues  of  strength  and  courage,  the  other  lays 
the  basis  for  the  passive  virtues,  sympathy,  and  love. 
In  the  later  world  one  seeks  its  end  in  personal  ag- 
grandizement, the  other  in  ministration.  One  begets 
competition,  self-assertion,  war;  the  other  unselfish- 
ness, self-effacement,  peace.  One  is  Individualism, 
the  other.  Altruism. 

To  say  that  no  ethical  content  can  be  put  into  the 
discharge  of  either  function  in  the  earlier  reaches  of 
Nature  goes  without  saying.  ]]ut  the  moment  we 
reach  a  certain  height  in  the  development,  ethical 
implications  begin  to  arise.  These,  in  tlie  case  of  the 
first,  have  been  read  into  Nature,  lower  as  well  as 
higher,  with  an  exaggerated  and  merciless  malevo- 
lence. The  other  side  has  received  almost  no  expi'es- 
sion.  Tlie  final  result  is  a  pictui'e  of  Nature  wholly 
painted  in  shadow— a  picture  so  dark  as  to  be  a  chal- 
lenge to  its  Maker,  an  unanswered  problem  to  philoso- 
phy, an  abiding  offence  to  the  moral  nature  of  Man. 
The  world  has  been  held  up  to  us  as  one  great  battle- 
field heaped  with  the  slain,  an  Inferno  of  infinite  suf- 
fering, a  slaughter-house  resounding  witli  the  cries  of 
a  ceaseless  agony. 


20  INTRODUCTION. 


Before  this  version  of  the  tragedy,  authenticated  by 
the  highest  names  on  the  roll  of  science,  humanity 
was  dumb,  morality  mystified,  natural  theology  stulti- 
fied. A  truer  reading  may  not  wholly  relieve  the 
first,  enlighten  the  second,  or  re-instate  the  third. 
But  it  at  least  re-opens  the  inquiry ;  and  when  all  its 
bearings  come  to  be  perceived,  the  light  thrown  upon 
the  field  of  Nature  by  the  second  factor  may  be  more 
impressive  to  reason  than  the  apparent  shadow  of  the 
first  to  sense. 

To  relieve  the  strain  of  the  position  forced  upon 
ethics  by  the  one-sided  treatment  of  the  process  of 
Evolution  heroic  attempts  have  been  made.  Some 
have  attempted  to  mitigate  the  amount  of  suffering  it 
involves,  and  assure  us  that,  after  all,  tlie  Struggle, 
except  as  a  metaphor,  scarcely  exists.  "  There  is," 
protests  Mr.  Alfred  Russel  Wallace,  "  good  reason  to 
believe  that  the  supposed  '  torments '  and  '  miseries ' 
of  animals  have  little  real  existence,  but  are  the  reflec- 
tion of  the  amagined  sensations  of  cultivated  men  and 
women  in  similar  circumstances  ;  and  that  the  amount 
of  actual  suffering  caused  by  the  Struggle  for  Exist- 
ence among  animals  is  altogether  insignificant."  ^  Mr. 
Huxley,  on  the  other  hand,  will  make  no  compromise. 
The  Struggle  for  Life  to  him  is  a  portentous  fact,  un- 
mitigated and  unexi)lained.  No  metaphors  are  strong 
enough  to  describe  the  implacability  of  its  sway. 
"  The  moral  indifference  of  nature "  and  "  tlie  un- 
fathomable injustice  of  the  nature  of  things "  every- 
where stare  him  in  the  face.  "For  his  successful  prog- 
ress as  far  as  the  savage  state,  Man  has  been  largely 
indebted  to  those  qualities  which  he  shares  with  the 
'  Darwlnifiin,  p.  o7. 


THE  MISSING  FACTOR  IN  CUUnKNT  niEOIUES.    21 

ape  and  the  tiger."  ^  That  stage  reached,  "  for  thou- 
sands and  thousands  of  years,  before  the  origin  of  the 
oldest  known  civilizations,  men  were  savages  of  a  very- 
low  type.  They  strove  with  their  enemies  and  their 
competitors ;  they  preyed  upon  tilings  weaker  or  less 
cumiing  than  themselves ;  they  were  born,  multiplied 
without  stint,  and  died,  for  thousands  of  generations, 
alongside  the  mammoth,  the  urus,  the  lion,  and  the 
hyaena,  whose  lives  were  spent  in  the  same  way ;  and 
they  were  no  more  to  be  praised  or  blamed,  on  moral 
grounds,  than  their  less  erect  and  more  hairy  com- 
patriots. .  .  .  Life  was  a  continual  free  fight,  and 
beyond  the  limited  and  temporary  relations  of  the 
family,  the  Ilobbesian  Avar  of  each  against  all  was  the 
normal  state  of  existence.  The  human  species,  like 
others,  plashed  and  floundered  amid  the  general 
stream  of  evolution,  keeping  its  head  above  water  as 
it  best  might,  and  thinking  neither  of  whence  nor 
whither."  ^ 

How  then  does  Mr.  Huxley  act — for  it  is  instructive 
to  follow  out  the  consequences  of  an  error — in  the  face 
of  this  tremendous  problem  ?  He  gives  it  up.  There 
is  no  solution.  (^Nature  is  without  excuse.^  After 
framing  an  indictment  against  it  in  the  severest  lan- 
guage at  his  command,  he  turns  his  back  upon  Nature 
— sub-human  Nature,  that  is — and  leaves  teleology  to 
settle  the  score  as  best  it  can.  "  The  history  of  civili- 
zation," he  tells  us,  "  is  the  record  of  the  attempts  of 
the  human  race  to  escape  from  this  position."  But 
whither  does  he  betake  himself?  Is  he  not  part  of 
Nature,  and  therefore  a  sharer  in  its  guilt?    Jiy  no 

1  Evolution  and  Ethics,  p.  6. 

2  Nineteenth  Century,  Feb.,  1888. 


JNTROUUCTIOX. 


means.  For  by  an  astonishing  toiir  de  force — the  last, 
as  his  former  associates  in  the  evolutionary  ranks 
have  not  failed  to  remind  him,  which  might  have  been 
expected  of  him — he  ejects  himself  from  the  world- 
order,  and  washes  his  hands  of  it  in  the  name  of  Ethi- 
cal Man.  After  sharing  the  fortunes  of  Evolution  all 
his  life,  bearing  its  burdens  and  solving  its  doubts,  h«5 
abandons  it  without  a  pang,  and  sets  up  an  imperium 
in  imperio,  where,  as  a  moral  being,  the  "  cosmic  " 
Struggle  troubles  him  no  more.  "  Cosmic  Nature,"  he 
says,  in  a  parting  shot  at  his  former  citadel,  "  is  no 
school  of  virtue,  but  the  headquarters  of  the  enemy  of 
ethical  nature."  ^  So  far  from  the  Ascent  of  Man  run- 
ning along  the  ancient  line,  "  Social  progress  means  a 
checking  of  the  cosmic  process  at  every  step,  and  the 
substitution  for  it  of  another,  which  may  be  called  the 
ethical  process ;  the  end  of  which  is  not  the  survival 
of  those  who  may  happen  to  be  fittest,  in  respect  of 
the  whole  of  the  conditions  which  exist,  but  of  those 
who  are  ethically  the  best.  ^ " 

The  expedient,  to  him,  was  a  necessity.  Viewing 
Nature  as  Mr.  Huxley  viewed  it  there  was  no  other 
refuge.  The  "  cosmic  process "  meant  to  him  the 
Struggle  for  Life,  and  to  escape  from  the  Struggle 
for  Life  he  was  compelled  to  turn  away  from  the 
world-order,  which  had  its  being  because  of  it.  As  it 
happens,  Mr.  Huxley  has  hit  upon  the  right  solution, 
only  the  method  by  which  he  reaches  it  is  wholly 
wrong.  And  the  mischievous  result  of  it  is  obvious 
— it  leaves  all  lower  Nature  in  the  lurch.  With 
a  curious  disregard  of  the  principle  of  Continuity,  to 

1  Evolution  and  Ethics,  p.  27.  -  Ibid.,  p.  3.3. 


THE  MISSING  FACTOR  IX  CURRENT  THEORIES.    23 

which  all  his  previous  work  had  done  such  homage, 
he  splits  up  the  world-order  into  two  separate  halves. 
The  earlier  dominated  by  the  "cosmic"  princi])le — • 
the  Struggle  for  Life ;  the  other  b}^  the  "  ethical " 
principle — virtually,  the  Struggle  for  the  Life  of 
Others.  The  Struggle  for  Life  is  thus  made  to  stop 
at  the  "ethical"  process;  the  Struggle  for  the  Life 
of  Others  to  begin.  Neither  is  justified  by  fact.  The 
Struggle  for  the  Life  of  Others,  as  we  have  seen, 
starts  its  upward  course  from  the  same  protoplasm 
as  the  Struggle  for  Life ;  and  the  Struggle  for  Life 
runs  on  into  the  "  ethical  "  sphere  as  much  as  the 
Struggle  for  the  Life  of  Others.  One  has  only  to  see 
where  Mr.  Huxley  gets  his  "  ethical "  world  to  per- 
ceive the  extent  of  the  anomaly.  For  where  does  he 
get  it,  and  what  manner  of  world  is  it  ?  "  The  history 
of  civilization  details  the  steps  by  which  men  have 
succeeded  in  building  up  an  artificial  world  within  the 
cosmos."  ^     An  artificial  world  within  the  cosmos  ? 

This  suggested  breach  between  the  earlier  and  the 
later  process,  if  indeed  we  are  to  take  it  seriously,  is 
scientifically  indefensible,  and  the  more  unfortunate 
since  the  same  result,  or  a  better,  can  be  obtained 
without  it.  The  real  breach  is  not  between  the 
earlier  and  the  later  process,  but  between  two  rival, 
or  two  co-operating  processes,  which  have  existed 
from  the  first,  Avhich  have  worked  together  all  along 
the  line,  and  which  took  on  "  ethical "  characters  at 
the  same  moment  in  time.  The  Struggle  for  the  Life 
of  Others  is  sunk  as  deep  in  the  "cosmic  process"  as 
the  Struggle  for  Life;  the  Struggle  for  Life  has  a 
share  in  the  "  ethical  process  "  as  much  as  the  Strug- 
^  Evulution  and  Ethics,  p.  35, 


24  INTRODUCTION. 


gle  for  the  Life  of  Others.  Both  are  cosmic  processes; 
both  are  ethical  processes;  botli  are  botli  cosmical 
and  ethical  processes.  Nothing  but  confusion  can 
arise  from'  a  cross-classification  which  does  justice  to 
neither  half  of  Nature. 

The  consternation  caused  by  Mr.  Huxley's  change 
of  front,  or  supposed  change  of  front,  is  matter  of 
recent  history.  Mr.  Leslie  Stephen  and  Mr.  Herbert 
Spencer  hastened  to  protest;  the  older  school  of 
moralists  hailed  it  almost  as  a  conversion.  But  the 
one  fact  everywhere  apparent  throughout  the  dis- 
cussion is  that  neither  side  apprehended  either  the 
ultimate  nature  or  the  true  solution  of  the  problem. 
The  seat  of  the  disorder  is  the  same  in  both  attackers 
and  attacked — the  one-sided  view  of  Natui-e.  Uni- 
versally Nature,  as  far  as  the  plant,  animal,  and 
savage  levels,  is  taken  to  be  synonymous  with  the 
Struggle  for  Life.  Darwinism  held  the  monopoly  of 
that  lower  region,  and  Darwinism  revenged  itself  in  a 
manner  which  has  at  least  shown  the  inadequacy  of 
the  most  widely-accepted  premise  of  recent  science. 

That  Mr.  Huxley  has  misgivings  on  the  matter 
himself  is  apparent  from  his  Notes.  "  Of  course," 
he  remarks,  in  reference  to  the  technical  point, 
"strictly  speaking,  social  life  and  the  ethical  process 
in  virtue  of  which  it  advances  toAvards  perfection  are 
part  and  parcel  of  the  general  process  of  Evolution."  ^ 
And  he  gets  a  momentary  glimpse  of  the  "  ethical 
process  "  in  the  cosmos,  which,  if  he  had  followed  it 
out,  must  have  modified  his  whole  position.  "Even 
in  these  rudimentary  forms  of  society,  love  and  fear 
come  into  play,  and  enforce  a  greater  or  less  renun- 
^  Evolution  and  Ethics,  note  19. 


THE  MISSING  FACTOR  IX  CURIIENT  THEORIES.    25 

elation  of  self-will.  To  this  extent  the  general  cosmic 
process  begins  to  be  checked  by  a  rudimentary  ethical 
process,  which  is,  strictly  speaking,  part  of  the  former, 
just  as  the  '  governor '  in  a  steam-engine  is  part  of 
the  mechanism  of  the  engine."  ^ 

Here  the  whole  position  is  virtually  conceded ;  and 
only  the  pre-conceptions  of  Darwinism  and  the  lack 
of  a  complete  investigation  into  the  nature  and  extent 
of  the  "  rudimentary  ethical  process "  can  have  pre- 
vailed in  the  face  of  such  an  admission.  Follow  out 
the  metaphor  of  the  "  governor,"  and,  with  one  im- 
portant modification,  the  true  situation  almost  stands 
disclosed.  For  what  appears  to  be  the  "  governor  "  in 
the  rudimentary  ethical  process  becomes  the  "  steam- 
engine  "  in  the  later  process.  The  mere  fact  that  it 
exists  in  the  "general  cosmic  process"  alters  the 
quality  of  that  process ;  and  the  fact  that,  as  we  hope 
to  show,  it  becomes  the  prime  mover  in  the  later 
process,  entirely  changes  our  subsequent  conception  of 
it.  The  beginning  of  a  process  is  to  be  read  from  the 
end  and  not  from  the  beginning.  And  if  even  a  rudi- 
ment of  a  moral  order  be  found  in  the  beginnings  of 
this  process  it  relates  itself  and  that  process  to  a  final 
end  and  a  final  unity. 

Philosophy  reads  end  into  the  earlier  process  by  a 
necessity  of  reason.  But  how  much  stronger  its  posi- 
tion if  it  could  add  to  that  a  basis  in  the  facts  of 
Nature?  "I  ask  the  evolutionist,"  pertinently  in- 
quires Mr.  Huxley's  critic,  who  has  no  other  basis 
than  the  Struggle  for  existence  how  he  accounts  for 
the  intrusion  of  these  moral  ideas  and  standards 
which  presume  to  interfere  with  the  cosmic  process 
Evolution  and  Ethics,  note  19. 


20  iNrnoDUCTiox. 


and  sit  in  judgment  upon  its  results.'"  ^  May  we  ask 
the  philosopher  how //e  accounts  for  them?  As  little 
can  he  account  for  them  as  he  who  has  "  no  other 
basis  than  the  Struggle  for  existence."  Truly,  the 
writer  continues,  the  question  "  cannot  he  answered  so 
long  as  we  regard  morality  merely  as  an  incidental  re- 
sult, a  by-product,  as  it  were,  of  the  cosmical  system." 
JJut  what  if  morality  be  the  main  product  of  the  cos- 
mical system — of  even  the  cosmical  system  ?  What  if 
it  can  be  shown  that  it  is  the  essential  and  not  the  in- 
cidental result  of  it,  and  that  so  far  from  being  a  by- 
product, it  is  ??yanorality  that  is  the  by-product? 

These  interrogations  may  be  too  strongly  put. 
"Accompaniments"  of  the  cosmical  system  might  be 
Detter  than  "products";  "revelations  through  that 
process"  may  be  nearer  the  truth  than  "results"  of  it. 
But  what  is  intended  to  show  is  that  the  moral  order 
is  a  continuous  line  from  the  beginning,  that  it  has 
had  throughout,  so  to  speak,  a  basis  in  the  cosmos, 
that  upon  this,  as  a  trellis-work,  it  has  climbed  up- 
wards to  the  top.  The  one — the  trellis-work — is  to  be 
conceived  of  as  an  incarnation ;  the  other — the  mani- 
festation— as  a  I'evelation;  the  one  is  an  Evolution 
from  below,  the  other  an  Involution  from  above. 
Philosophy  has  long  since  assui-ed  us  of  the  last,  but 
because  it  was  never  able  to  show  us  the  completeness 
of  the  first,  science  refused  to  believe  it.  The  de- 
faulter nevertheless  was  not  philosophy  but  science. 
Its  business  was  with  the  trellis-work.  And  it  gave 
us  a  broken  trellis-work,  a  ladder  with  only  one  side, 
and  every  step  on  the  other  side  resting  on  air.  When 
science  tried  to  climb  the  ladder  it  failed;  the  steps 
1  Prof,  Seth,  Blackwood's  Mwjazine,  Dec,  1893. 


THE  MISSING  FACTOR  IX  CURRENT  TllEORIKS.    '21 

refused  to  bear  any  weight.  What  did  men  of  science 
do?  They  condemned  the  ladder  and,  balancing 
themselves  on  the  side  that  was  secure,  proclaimed 
their  Agnosticism  to  philosophy.  And  what  did  phi- 
losophy do?  It  stood  on  the  other  half  of  the  ladder, 
t/ie  half  that  tons  not  tJieve,  and  rated  them.  That  the 
other  half  was  not  there  was  of  little  moment.  It 
was  in  themselves.  It  ought  to  be  there ;  therefore 
it  must  be  there.  And  it  is  quite  true ;  it  is  there. 
Philosophy,  like  Poetry,  is  prophetic :  "  The  sense  of 
the  whole,"  it  says,  "comes  first."  ^ 

But  science  could  not  accept  the  alternative.  It 
had  looked,  and  it  was  not  there ;  from  its  stand- 
point the  only  refuge  was  Agnosticism — there  were  no 
facts.  Till  the  facts  arrived,  therefore,  philosophy 
was  powerless  to  relieve  her  ally.  Science  looked  to 
Nature  to  put  in  her  own  ends,  and  not  to  philosophy 
to  put  them  in  for  her.  Philosophy  might  interpret 
them  after  they  were  there,  but  it  must  have  some- 
thing to  start  from  ;  and  all  that  science  had  supplied 
her  with  meantime  was  the  fact  of  the  Struggle  for 
Life.  Working  fi'om  the  stand-point  of  the  larger 
Nature,  Human  Nature  itself,  philosophy  could  put  in 
other  ends;  but  there  appeared  no  solid  backing  for 
these  in  facts,  and  science  refused  to  be  satisfied. 
The  position  was  a  fair  one.  The  danger  of  phi- 
losophy putting  in  the  ends  is  that  she  cannot  con- 
vince every  one  that  they  are  tlie  right  ones. 

And  what  is  the  valid  answer  ?    Of   course,  that 

Nature  has  put  in  her  own  ends  if  we  would  take  the 

trouble  to  look  for  them.     She  does  not  require  them 

to  be  secretly  manufactured  upstairs  and  credited  to 

1  Trof.  II.  Jones,  Browning,  p.  28. 


28  INTIiOBUCTION. 


her  account.  By  that  process  mistakes  might  arise 
in  the  reckoning.  Tlie  philosopliers  upstairs  might 
differ  about  the  figures,  or  at  least  in  equating  them. 
The  philosoplier  requires  fact,  i)lienomenon,  natural 
law,  at  every  turn  to  keep  him  right ;  and  witliout  at 
least  some  glimpse  of  these,  he  may  travel  far  afield. 
So  long  as  Schopenhauer  sees  one  tiling  in  the  course 
of  Nature  and  Rousseau  another,  it  will  always  be 
well  to  have  Nature  herself  to  act  as  referee.  The 
end  as  read  in  Nature  and  the  end  as  re-read  in,  and 
interpreted  by,  the  higher  Nature  of  Man  may  be  very 
different  things  ;  but  nothing  can  be  done  till  the  End- 
in-the-phenomenon  clears  the  way  for  the  End-in- 
itself — till  science  overtakes  philosophy  with  facts. 
When  that  is  done,  everything  can  be  done.  With 
the  finding  of  the  other  half  of  the  ladder,  even  Ag- 
nosticism may  retire.  Science  cannot  permanently 
pronounce  itself  "  not  knowing,"  till  it  has  exhausted 
the  possibilities  of  knowing.  And  in  this  case  the 
Agnosticism  is  premature,  for  science  has  only  to  look 
again,  and  it  will  discover  that  the  missing  facts  are 
there. 

Seldom  has  there  been  an  instance  on  so  large  a 
scale  of  a  biological  error  corrupting  a  whole  philoso- 
phy. Bacon's  aphorism  was  never  more  true : 
"  This  I  dare  affirm  in  knowledge  of  Nature,  that  a 
little  natural  philosophy,  and  the  first  entrance  into 
it,  doth  dispose  the  opinion  to  atheism,  but  on  the 
other  side,  much  natural  philosophy,  and  wading  deep 
into  it,  will  bring  about  men's  minds  to  religion."^ 
Hitherto,  the  Evolutionist  has  had  practically  no  other 
basis  than  the  Struggle  for  Life.  Suppose  even  we 
^  Meditationes  Sacrce,  X. 


THE  MISSING  FACTOR  IN  CURRENT  THEORIES.    29 

leave  that  untouched,  the  addition  of  an  Other- 
regarding  basis  makes  an  infinite  difference.  For 
when  it  is  then  asked  on  which  of  them  tlie  process 
turns,  and  the  answer  is  given  "  On  both,"  we  perceive 
that  it  is  neitlier  by  the  one  alone,  nor  by  the  other 
alone,  that  the  process  is  to  be  interpreted,  but  by  a 
higher  unity  which  resolves  and  embraces  all.  And 
as  botli  are  equally  necessary  to  this  antinomy,  even 
that  of  the  two  which  seems  irreconcilable  with 
higher  ends  is  seen  to  be  necessary.  Viewed  sitn- 
pliciter,  the  Struggle  for  Life  appears  irreconcilable 
with  ethical  ends,  a  prodigious  anomaly  in  a  moral 
world  ;  but  viewed  in  continuous  reaction  with  the 
Struggle  for  the  Life  of  Others,  it  discloses  itself  as  an 
instrument  of  perfection  the  most  subtle  and  far- 
reaching  that  reason  could  devise. 

The  presence  of  the  second  factor,  therefore,  while 
it  leaves  the  first  untouched,  cannot  leave  its  implica- 
tions untouched.  It  completely  alters  these  implica- 
tions. It  has  never  been  denied  that  the  Struggle  for 
Life  is  an  efficient  instrument  of  progress  ;  the  sole 
difficulty  has  always  been  to  justify  the  nature  of  tlie 
instrument.  But  if  even  it  be  shown  that  this  is  only 
half  the  instrument,  teleology  gains  something.  If 
the  fuller  view  takes  notliing  away  from  the  process  of 
Evolution,  it  imports  something  into  it  which  changes 
the  whole  aspect  of  the  case.  For  even  from  the  first 
that  factor  is  there.  The  Struggle  for  the  Life  of 
Others,  as  we  have  seen,  is  no  interpolation  at  the  end 
of  the  process,  but  radical,  engrained  in  tlie  world- 
order  as  profoundly  as  the  Struggle  for  Life.  By 
what  right,  then,  has  Nature  been  interpreted  only  by 
the  Struggle  for  Life?    With  far  greater  justice  might 


30  IN  Tii  on  ucTiojsr. 


science  interpret  it  in  the  light  of  the  Struggle  for  the 
Life  of  Others.  F'or,  in  the  first  place,  unless  there 
had  been  this  second  factor,  the  world  conld  not  have 
existed.  Without  the  Struggle  for  the  Life  of  Others, 
obviously  there  would  have  been  no  Others.  In  the 
second  place,  unless  there  had  been  a  Struggle  for  the 
Life  of  Others,  the  Struggle  for  Life  could  not  have 
been  kept  up.  As  will  be  shown  later  the  Struggle 
for  Life  almost  wholly  supports  itself  on  the  products 
of  the  Struggle  for  the  Life  of  Others.  In  the  third 
place,  without  the  Struggle  for  the  Life  of  Others,  the 
Struggle  for  Life  as  regards  its  energies  would  have 
died  down,  and  failed  of  its  whole  achievement.  It  is 
the  ceaseless  pressure  produced  by  the  exuberant  fer- 
tility of  Reproduction  that  creates  any  valuable  Strug- 
gle for  Life  at  all.  The  moment  "  Others  "  multiply, 
the  individual  struggle  becomes  keen  up  to  the  dis- 
ciplinary point.  It  was  this,  indeed — through  the 
reading  of  Malthus  on  Over-population — that  sug- 
gested to  Mv.  Darwin  the  value  of  the  Struggle  for 
Life.  The  law  of  Over-population  from  that  time  for- 
ward became  the  foundation-stone  of  his  theory ;  and 
recent  biological  research  has  made  the  basis  more 
solid  than  ever.  The  Struggle  for  the  Life  of  Others 
on  the  plant  and  animal  plane,  in  tlie  mere  work  of 
multiplying  lives,  is  a  final  condition  of  progress. 
Without  competition  there  can  be  no  fight,  and  with- 
out fight  there  can  be  no  victory.  In  other  wordsi 
without  the  Struggle  for  the  Life  of  Others  there  can 
be  no  Struggle  for  Life,  and  therefore  no  Evolution. 
Finally,  and  all  the  reasons  already  given  are  frivolous 
beside  it,  had  there  been  no  Altruism — Altruism  in 
the  definite  sense  of  unselfishness,  sympathy,  and  self- 


THE  MI8SING  FACTOR  IN  CURRENT  THEORIES.    ;J1 

sacrifice  for  Others,  the  whole  higher  world  of  life  had 
perished  as  soon  as  it  was  created.  For  hours,  or 
days,  or  weeks  in  the  early  infancy  of  all  higher 
animals,  maternal  care  and  sympathy  are  a  condition 
of  existence.  Altruism  had  to  enter  the  world,  and 
any  species  which  neglected  it  was  extinguished  in  a 
generation. 

No  doubt  a  case  could  be  made  out  likewise  for  the 
imperative  value  of  the  Struggle  for  Life.  The  posi- 
tion has  just  been  granted.  So  far  from  disputing  it, 
Ave  assume  it  to  be  equally  essential  to  Xature  and  to 
a  judgment  upon  the  process  of  Evolution.  But  what 
is  disputed  is  that  the  Struggle  for  Life  is  either  the 
key  to  Nature,  or  that  it  is  more  important  in  itself 
than  the  Struggle  for  the  Life  of  Others.  It  is  pitiful 
Avork  pitting  the  right  hand  against  the  left,  the  heart 
against  the  head ;  but  if  it  be  insisted  that  there  is 
neither  right  hand  nor  heart,  the  proclamation  is  nec- 
essary not  only  that  they  exist,  but  tliat  absolutely 
they  are  as  important  and  relatively  to  ethical  Man 
of  infinitely  greater  moment  than  anything  that 
functions  either  in  the  animal  or  social  organism. 

But  why,  if  all  this  be  true  of  the  Struggle  for 
the  Life  ct  Others,  has  a  claim  so  imperious  r.ot 
been  recognized  by  science  ?  That  a  phenomenon 
of  this  distinction  should  have  attracted  so  little 
attention  suggests  a  suspicion.  Does  it  really  exist  ? 
Ts  the  biological  basis  sound  ?  Have  we  not  at  least 
exaggerated  its  signifi(;ance  ?  Tlie  biologist  will 
judge.  Though  no  doul)t  the  function  of  Repro- 
duction is  intimately  connected  in  Physiology  with 
the  function  of  Nutrition,  the  facts  as  stated  here  are 
facts  of  Nature  ;  and  some  glimpse  of  the  influence  of 


32  INTRODUCTION. 


this  second  factor  will  be  given  in  the  sequel  from 
which  even  the  non-biological  reader  may  draw  his 
own  conclusions.  Difficult  as  it  seems  to  account  for 
the  ignoring  of  an  elemental  fact  in  framing  the 
doctrine  of  Evolution,  there  are  circumstances  which 
make  the  omission  less  unintelligible.  Foremost,  of 
course,  there  stands  the  overpowering  influence  of 
Mr.  Darwin.  In  spite  of  the  fact  that  he  warned  his 
followers  against  it,  this  largely  prejudged  the  issue. 
Next  is  to  be  considered  the  narrowing,  one  had  al- 
most said  the  blighting,  effect  of  specialism.  Neces- 
sary to  the  progress  of  science,  the  first  era  of  a  reign 
of  specialism  is  disastrous  to  philosophy.  The  men 
who  in  field  and  laboratory  are  working  out  the  facts, 
do  not  speculate  at  all.  Content  with  slowly  building 
up  the  sum  of  actual  knowledge  in  some  neglected  and 
restricted  province,  they  are  too  absorbed  to  notice 
even  what  the  workers  in  tlie  other  provinces  are 
about.  Thus  it  happens  that  while  there  are  many 
scientific  men,  there  are  few  scientific  thinkers.  The 
complaint  is  often  made  that  science  speculates  too 
much.  It  is  quite  the  otlier  way.  One  has  only  to 
read  the  average  book  of  science  in  almost  any  de- 
partment to  wonder  at  the  wealth  of  knowledge,  the 
brilliancy  of  observation,  and  the  barrenness  of  idea. 
On  the  other  hand,  though  scientific  experts  will  not 
think  themselves,  there  is  ahvays  a  multitude  of  on- 
lookers waiting  to  do  it  for  them.  Among  these  what 
strikes  one  is  the  ignorance  of  fact  and  tlie  audacity  of 
the  idea.  The  moment  any  great  half-truth  in  Nature 
is  unearthed,  these  unqualified  practitioners  leap  to  a 
generalization  ;  and  the  observers  meantime,  on  the 
track  of  the  otlier  half,  are  too  busy  or  too  oblivious  to 


THE  MISSING  FACTOR  IN  CURRENT  THEORIES.    33 

refute  their  heresies.  Hence,  long  after  its  founda- 
tions are  undermined,  a  brilliant  generalization  will 
retain  its  hold  upon  the  popular  mind ;  and  before  the 
complementary,  the  qualifying,  or  the  neutralizing 
facts  can  be  supplied,  the  mischief  is  done. 

But  while  this  is  true  of  many  who  play  with  the 
double-edged  tools  of  science,  it  is  not  true  of  a  third 
class.  When  we  turn  to  the  pages  of  the  few  whose 
science  is  adequate  and  whose  sweep  is  over  the  whole 
vast  horizon,  we  lind,  as  we  should  expect,  some 
recognition  of  the  altruistic  factor.  Though  Mr. 
Herbert  Spencer,  to  whom  the  appeal  in  this  connec- 
tion is  obvious,  makes  a  different  use  of  the  fact,  it 
lias  not  escaped  him.  Not  only  does  the  Other-re- 
garding function  receive  recognition,  but  he  allots  it 
a  high  place  in  his  system.  Of  its  ethical  bearings  he 
is  equally  clear.  "  What,"  he  asks,  "is  the  ethical  as- 
pect of  these  altruistic  principles  ?  In  the  first  place, 
animal  life  of  all  but  the  lowest  kinds  has  been  main- 
tained by  virtue  of  them.  Excluding  the  Protozoa., 
among  wliich  their  operation  is  scarcely  discernible, 
we  see  that  without  gratis  benefits  to  offspring,  and 
earned  benefits  to  adults,  life  could  not  have  con- 
tinued. In  the  second  place,  by  virtue  of  them  life 
has  gradually  evolved  into  higher  forms.  By  care  of 
offspring  which  has  become  greater  with  advancing 
organization,  and  by  survival  of  the  fittest  in  the  com- 
petition among  adults,  which  has  become  more  habitual 
with  advancing  organization,  superiority  has  been 
perpetually  fostered  and  further  advances  caused."  * 
Fiske,  Littre,  Romanes,  Le  Conte,  L.  Buchncr,  IMiss 
Buckley,  and  Prince  Kropotkin  have  expressed  them- 
^  Principles  of  Ethics,  Vol.  ii.,  p.  5. 


34  INTRODUCTION. 


selves  partly  in  the  same  direction ;  and  Geddes  and 
Thomson,  in  so  many  words,  recognize  "  the  co-exist- 
ence of  twin-streams  of  egoism  and  altruism,  wliich 
often  merge  for  a  space  without  losing  their  distinct- 
ness, and  are  traceable  to  a  common  origin  in  the 
simplest  forms  of  life."  ^  The  last  named — doubtless 
because  their  studies  have  taken  them  botli  into  the 
fields  of  pure  biology  and  of  bionomics — more  clearly 
than  any  other  modern  writers,  have  grasped  the 
bearings  of  this  theme  in  all  directions,  and  they  fear- 
lessly talvc  tlieir  stand-point  frfim  the  physiology  of 
protoplasm.  Thus,  "  in  the  hunger  and  reproductive 
attractions  of  tlie  lowest  organisms,  th.e  self-i'egarding 
and  other-regarding  activities  of  the  higiier  find  tlieir 
starting-point.  Though  some  vague  consciousness  is 
perhaps  co-existent  with  life  itself,  Ave  can  only  speak 
with  confidence  of  psychical  egoism  and  altruism 
after  a  central  nervous  system  has  been  definitely  es- 
tablished. At  the  same  time,  the  activities  of  even  the 
lowest  organisms  are  often  distinctly  referable  to 
either  category.  .  .  .  Ilai'dly  distinguishable  at 
the  outset,  the  primitive  hunger  and  love  become  the 
starting-points  of  divergent  lines  of  egoistic  and  altru- 
istic emotion  and  activity."  ^ 

That  at  a  much  earlier  stage  than  is  usually  sup- 
posed. Evolution  visibly  enters  upon  the  "rudiment- 
ary ethical "  plane,  is  certain,  and  we  shall  liope  to 
outline  the  proof.  But  even  if  the  thesis  fails,  it  re- 
mains to  challenge  the  general  view  that  the  Struggle 
for  Life  is  everything,  and  the  Struggle  for  the  Life 
of  Others  nothing.  Seeing  not  only  that  the  second  is 
the  more  important ;  but  also  this  far  more  significant 

1  The  EvohdUm  <>/  Sex,  p.  279.  "-  Ibid.,  p.  27D. 


THE  MISSING  FACTOR  IX  CURRENT  THEORIES.  S5 


fact — which  has  not  yet  been  alluded  to — that  as 
Involution  proceeds  the  one  Struggle  icaxes,  and  the  other 
cranes.,  would  it  not  be  wiser  to  study  the  drama 
nearer  its  denouement  before  deciding  whether  it  was 
a  moral,  a  non-moral,  or  an  immoral  play  ? 

Lest  the  alleged  leaning  of  the  Struggle  for  Life 
convey  a  wrong  impression,  let  it  be  added  that  of 
course  the  word  is  to  be  taken  qualitatively.  The 
Struggle  in  itself  can  iiever  cease.  What  ceases  is  its 
so-called  anti-ethical  character.  For  nothing  is  in 
finer  evidence  as  we  rise  in  the  scale  of  life  than  the 
gradual  tempering  of  the  Struggle  for  Life.  Its  slow 
amelioration  is  the  work  of  ages,  n^.ay  be  the  work  of 
ages  still,  but  its  animal  qualities  in  the  social  life  of 
Man  are  being  surely  left  behind ;  and  though  the 
mark  of  the  savage  and  the  brute  still  mar  its  handi- 
work, these  harsher  qualities  must  pass  away.  In  that 
new  social  order  which  the  gathering  might  of  the 
altruistic  spirit  is  creating  now  around  us,  in  that 
reign  of  Love  which  must  one  day,  if  the  course  of 
Evolution  holds  on  its  way,  be  realized,  the  baser 
elements  will  find  that  solvent  prepared  for  them  from 
the  beginning  in  anticipation  of  a  higher  rule  on  earth. 
Interpreting  the  course  of  Evolution  scientifically, 
whether  from  its  starting-point  in  the  first  protoplasm, 
or  from  the  rallying-point  of  its  two  great  forces  in  the 
social  organism  of  to-day,  it  becomes  more  and  more 
certain  that  only  from  the  commingled  achievement  of 
both  can  the  nature  of  the  process  be  truly  judged. 
Yet,  as  one  sees  the  one  sun  set,  and  the  other  rise 
with  a  splendor  the  more  astonishing  and  bewildering 
as  the  centuries  roll  on,  it  is  inqmssible  to  withhold  a 
verdict  as  to  which  may  be  most  reasona))ly  looked 


36  INTRODUCTION. 


upon  as  the  ultimate  reality  of  the  world.  The  path 
of  progress  and  the  path  of  Altruism  are  one.  Evolu- 
tion is  nothing  but  the  Involution  of  Love,  the  revela- 
tion of  Infinite  Spirit,  the  Eternal  Life  returning 
to  Itself.  Even  the  great  shadow  of  Egoism  which 
darkens  the  past  is  revealed  as  shadow  only  because 
we  are  compelled  to  read  it  by  the  higher  light  Avhich 
has  come.  In  the  very  act  of  judging  it  to  be  shadow, 
we  assume  and  vindicate  the  light.  And  in  every 
vision  of  the  light,  contrariwise,  we  resolve  the 
shadow,  and  perceive  the  end  for  which  both  light 
and  dark  are  given. 

"  I  can  believe,  this  dread  machinery 
Of  sin  and  sorrow  would  confound  me  else. 
Devised — all  pain,  at  most  expenditure 
Of  pain  by  Who  devised  pain — to  evolve, 
By  new  machinery  in  counterpart, 
The  moral  qualities  of  Man — how  else  ?  — 
To  make  him  love  in  turn,  and  be  beloved, 
Creative  and  self-sacrificing  too, 
And  thus  eventually  Godlike."  ^ 


in. 

WHY  WAS  EVOLUTION  THE  METHOD  CHOSEN. 

One  seldom-raised  yet  not  merely  curious  question 
of  Evolution  is,  why  the  process  should  be  an  evolu- 
tion at  all?  If  Evolution,  is  simply  a  method  of  Crea- 
tion, why  was  this  very  extraordinary  method  chosen  ? 
Creation  tout  cVun  coup  might  have  produced  the  same 
result ;  an  instantaneous  act  or   an  age-long  pj-ocess 

The  Elny  and  the  Book — The  Pope,  1375. 


WHY  WAS  EVOLUTION  THE  METHOD  CHOSEN.    87 


would  both  have  given  us  the  world  as  it  is  ?  The 
answer  of  modern  natural  theology  has  been  that  tbe 
evolutionary  method  is  the  infinitely  nobler  scheme. 
A  spectacular  act,  it  is  said,  savors  of  the  magician. 
As  a  mere  exhibition  of  power  it  appeals  to  the  lower 
nature ;  but  a  process  of  growth  suggests  to  the 
reason  the  work  of  an  intelligent  Mind.  No  doubt 
this  intellectual  gain  is  real.  AVhile  a  catastrophe 
puts  the  universe  to  confusion  at  the  start,  a  gradual 
rise  makes  the  beginning  of  Nature  liarmonious  with 
its  end.  IIow  the  surpassing  grandeur  of  the  new 
conception  has  filled  the  imagination  and  kindled  to 
enthusiasm  the  soberest  scientific  minds,  from  Darwin 
downwards,  is  known  to  every  one.  As  the  memo- 
rable words  which  close  the  Ori[/in  of  /Sjyecies  recall: 
"  There  is  a  grandeur  in  this  view  of  life,  with  its  sev- 
eral powers,  having  been  originally  breathed  by  the 
Creator  into  a  few  forms  or  into  one ;  and  that  whilst 
this  planet  has  gone  cycling  on,  according  to  the  fixed 
law  of  gravity,  from  so  simple  a  beginning  endless 
forms  most  beautiful  and  most  wonderful  have  been, 
and  are  being  evolved,"  ^ 
-^XZ-Kiit  can  an  intellectual  answer  satisfy  us  any  more 
than  the  mechanical  answer  which  it  replaced?  As 
there  was  clearly  a  moral  purpose  in  the  end  to  be 
achieved  by  Evolution,  should  we  not  expect  to  find 
some  similar  j)urpose  in  the  means?  Can  we  perceive 
no  high  design  in  selecting  this  particular  design,  no 
worthy  ethical  result  which  should  justify  the  concep- 
tion as  well  as  the  execution  of  Evolution  ? 

We  go   too   far,  perhaps,  in  expecting  answers  to 
questions  so  transcendent.     But  one  at  least  suggests 
1  Origin  of  »S/)ec/es,  p.  429. 


38  INTRODUCTION. 


itself,  whose  practical  value  is  apology  enough-  for 
venturing  to  advance  it.  Whenever  the  scheme  Avas 
planned,  it  must  have  been  foreseen  that  the  time 
would  come  when  the  directing  of  part  of  the  course 
of  Evolution  would  pass  into  the  hands  of  Man.  A 
spectator  of  the  drama  for  ages,  too  ignorant  to  see 
that  it  was  a  drama,  and  too  impotent  to  do  more  than 
play  his  little  part,  the  discovery  must  sooner  or  later 
break  upon  him  that  Xature  meant  him  to  become  a 
partner  in  her  task,  and  share  the  responsibility  of  the 
closing  acts.  It  is  not  given  to  him  as  yet  to  bind  the 
sweet  influences  of  Pleiades,  or  to  unloose  the  bands  of 
Orion.  In  part  only  can  he  make  the  winds  and  waves 
obey  him,  or  control  the  falling  rain.  But  in  larger 
part  he  holds  the  dominion  of  the  world  of  lower  life. 
lie  exterminates  what  he  pleases ;  he  creates  and  he 
destroys ;  he  changes ;  he  evolves ;  his  selection  re- 
places natural  selection ;  he  replenishes  the  earth  with 
plants  and  animals  according  to  his  will.  But  in  a  far 
grander  sphere,  and  in  an  infinitely  profounder  sense, 
has  the  sovereignty  passed  to  him.  For,  by  the  same 
decree,  he  finds  himself  the  guardian  and  the  arbiter 
of  his  personal  destiny,  and  that  of  his  fellow-men. 
The  moulding  of  his  life  and  of  his  children's  children 
in  njeasure  lie  with  him.  Through  institutions  of  his 
creation,  through  Parliaments,  Churches,  Societies, 
Schools,  he  shapes  the  path  of  progress  for  his  country 
and  his  time.  The  evils  of  the  world  are  combated  by 
his  remedies  ;  its  passions  are  stayed,  its  wrongs  re- 
dressed, its  energies  for  good  or  evil  directed  by  his 
hand.  For  unnumbered  millions  he  opens  or  shuts  the 
gates  of  happiness,  and  paves  the  way  for  misery  or 
social  health.     Never  before  was  it  known  and   felt 


WHY   WAS  EVOLUTION  THE  METHOD  CHOSEN.    31) 

_/with  the  Siime  solemn  certainty  that  Man,  within 
L  bonnds  Avhich  none  can  pass,  must  be  his  own  maker 
and  tlie  malcer  of  the  world.  For  the  first  time  in 
history  not  individuals  only  but  nniltitudes  of  the 
wisest  and  the  noblest  in  every  land  take  home  to 
themselves,  and  unceasingly  concern  themselves  with 
the  problem  of  the  Evolution  of  Mankind.  Multitudes 
more,  philanthropists,  statesmen,  missionaries,  humble 
men  and  patient  women,  devote  themselves  daily  to 
its  jDractical  solution,  and  everywhere  some,  in  a  God- 
like culmination  of  Altruism,  give  their  very  lives  for 
their  fellow-meu.  Who  is  to  help  these  Practical  Evo- 
lutionists— for  those  who  read  the  book  of  Nature  can 
call  them  by  no  other  name,  and  those  who  know  its 
spirit  can  call  them  by  no  higher — who  is  to  help  them 
in  their  tremendous  task  ?  There  is  the  will — where 
is  the  wisdom  ? 

AVhere  but  in  Nature  herself.  Nature  may  have 
enti'usted  the  further  building  to  Mankind,  but  the 
plan  has  never  left  lier  hands.  tThe  lines  of  tlie  future 
are  to  be  learned  from  her  past,  and  her  fellow-helpers 
can  most  easily,  most  loyally,  and  most  .perfectly  do 
their  part  by  studying  closely  the  architecture  of 
the  earlier  world,  and  continuing  the  half -finished 
structure  synnnetrically  to  the  top.  The  information 
necessary  to  complete  the  work  with  architectural 
consistency  lies  in  Nature.  We  might  expect  that  it 
should  be  there.  When  a  business  is  transferred,  or  a 
partner  assumed,  the  books  are  shown,  the  methods  of 
the  business  explained,  its  future  developments  pointed 
out.  All  this  is  now  done  for  the  Evolution  of  Man- 
kind.    In   Evolution   Creation   has    shown   her  hand. 

JL  To  have  kept  the  secret  from  ]Man  would  have  im- 


40  IN  Til  OD  UC  TION. 


perilled  the  further  evolution.  To  have  revealed  it 
sooner  had  been  premature.  Love  must  come  before 
knowledge,  for  knowledge  is  the  instrument  of  Love, 
and  useless  till  it  arrives.  But  now  that  there  is 
Altruism  enough  in  the  world  to  begin  the  new  era, 
there  must  be  wisdom  enough  to  direct  it.  To  make 
Nature  spell  out  her  own  career,  to  embody  the  key  to 
the  development  in  the  very  development  itself,  so  that 
the  key  might  be  handed  over  along  with  the  work, 
was  to  make  the  transference  of  re;>ponsibility  possible 
and  rational.  In  the  seventeenth  century,  Descartes, 
who  with  Leibnitz  already  foresaw  the  adumbration  of 
the  evolutionary  process,  almost  pointed  this  out ; 
for  speaking,  in  another  connection,  of  the  intellectual 
value  of  a  slow  development  of  things  he  observes, 
"  their  nature  is  much  more  easy  to  conceive  when 
they  are  seen  originating  by  degrees  in  this  way,  than 
when  they  are  considered  as  entirely  made."  ^ 
,;  The  past  of  Nature  is  a  working-model  of  how 
//worlds  can  be  made.  The  probabilities  are  there  is  no 
better  way  of  making  them.  If  Man  does  as  well  it 
will  be  enough.  In  any  case  he  can  only  begin  where 
Nature  left  off,  and  work  with  such  tools  as  are  put 
into  his  hands.  If  the  new  partner  had  been  intended 
merely  to  experiment  with  world-making,  no  such 
legacy  of  useful  law  had  been  ever  given  him.  And  if 
he  had  been  meant  to  begin  de  novo  on  a  totally  different 
plan,  it  is  unlikely  either  that  that  sliould  not  have 
been  hinted  at,  or  that  in  his  touching  and  beautiful 
endeavor  he  should  be  embarrassed  and  thrown  off 
the  track  by  the  old  plan.  As  a  child  set  to  complete 
some  fine  embroidery  is  shown  the  stitches,  the 
^  Discourse  on  Method. 


EVOLUTION  AND  SOCIOLOGY.  41 

colors,  and  the  outline  traced  upon  the  canvas,  so 
the  great  Mother  in  setting  their  difficult  task  to  her 
later  children  provides  them  with  one  superb  part 
finished  to  show  the  pattern. 


IV. 

EVOLUTION  AND  SOCIOLOGY. 

The  moment  it  is  grasped  that  we  may  have  in 
Nature  a  key  to  the  future  progress  of  Mankind, 
the  study  of  Evolution  rises  to  an  imposing  i-ank  in 
human  interest.  There  lies  the  programme  of  the 
world  from  the  first  of  time,  the  instrument,  the  char- 
ter, and  still  more  tlie  prophecy  of  progress.  Evolu- 
tion is  tlie  natural  directory  of  the  sociologist,  the 
guide  through  that  which  has  worked  in  the  past  to 
what — subject  to  modifying  influences  which  Nature 
can  always  be  trusted  to  give  full  notice  of — may  be 
expected  to  work  in  the  futui-e.  Here,  for  the  indi- 
vidual, is  a  new  and  impressive  summons  to  public 
action,  a  vocation  chosen  of  Nature  which  it  will 
profit  him  to  consider,  for  thereby  he  may  not  only 
save  the  whole  world,  but  find  his  own  soul.  "The 
study  of  the  historical  development  of  man,"  says 
Prof.  Edward  Caird,  "especially  in  respect  of  his 
higher  life,  is  not  oidy  a  matter  of  external  or  merely 
speculative  curiosity;  it  is  closely  connected  with  tlie 
development  of  that  life  in  ourselves.  For  we  learn 
to  know  ourselves,  first  of  all,  in  the  mirror  of  the 
world  :  or,  in  other  words,  our  knowledge  of  our  own 
nature  and  of  its  i)ossibilities  grows  and  deepens  with 


42  INTRODUCTION. 


our  understanding  of  what  is  without  us,  and  most  of 
all  with  our  understanding  of  the  general  history  of 
num.  It  has  often  been  noticed  that  there  is  a  certain 
analog}^  between  the  life  of  the  individual  and  that  of 
the  race,  and  even  that  the  life  of  the  individual  is  a 
sort  of  epitome  of  the  history  of  humanity.  But,  as 
Plato  already  discovered,  it  is  by  reading  the  large 
letters  that  we  learn  to  interpret  the  small.  .  .  . 
It  is  only  through  a  deepened  consciousness  of  the 
world  that  the  human  spirit  can  solve  its  own  prob- 
lem. Especially  is  this  true  in  the  region  of  anthro- 
pology. For  tlie  inner  life  of  the  individual  is  deep 
and  full  just  in  proportion  to  the  width  of  his  relations 
to  other  men  and  things ;  and  his  consciousness  of 
what  he  is  in  himself  as  a  spiritual  being  i.:  dependent 
on  a  comprehension  of  the  position  of  his  individual 
life  in  the  great  secular  process  by  which  the  intel- 
lectual and  moral  life  of  humanity  has  grown  and  is 
growing.  Hence  the  highest  practical,  as  well  as  spec- 
ulative, interests  of  men  are  connected  with  the  new 
extension  of  science  which  has  given  fresh  interest  and 
meaning  to  the  whole  history  of  the  race."  ^  If,  as 
Herbert  Spencer  reminds  us,  "  it  is  one  of  those  open 
secrets  which  seem  the  more  secret  because  they  are 
so  open,  that  all  phenomena  displayed  by  a  nation  are 
phenomena  of  Life,  and  are  dependent  on  the  laws  of 
Life,"  we  cannot  devote  ourselves  to  study  those  laws 
too  earnestly  or  too  soon.  From  the  failure  to  get  at 
the  heart  of  the  first  principles  of  Evolution  the  old 
call  to  "  follow  Xature  "  has  all  lait  become  a  heresy. 
Nature,  as  a  moral  teacher,  thanks  to  the  Darwinian 
interpretation,  was  never  more  discredited  than  at 
1  Tilt  Evolution  of  lieliyion,  Vol.  i.,  pp.  25,  29. 


EVOLUTION  AND  SOCIOLOGY.  43 

this  hour ;  and  friend  and  foe  alike  agree  in  warning 
us  against  lier.  But  a  furtlier  reading  of  Nature  may 
decide  not  tliat  we  nuist  discliarge  the  teacher  but  beg 
her  mutinous  pupils  to  try  another  term  at  school. 
With  Nature  studied  in  the  light  of  a  true  biology,  or 
even  in  the  sense  in  which  the  Stoics  themselves  em- 
ployed their  favorite  phrase,  it  must  become  once 
more  the  Avatchword  of  personal  and  social  progress. 
With  Mr.  Huxley's  definition  of  what  the  Stoics 
meant  by  Nature  as  "  that  which  holds  up  the  ideal  of 
the  supreme  good  and  demands  absolute  submission  of 
the  will  to  its  behests.  .  .  which  commands  all  men 
to  love  one  another,  to  return  good  for  evil,  to  regard 
one  another  as  citizens  of  one  great  state,"  ^  the 
phrase,  "  Live  according  to  Nature,"  so  far  from  hav- 
ing no  application  to  the  modern  world  or  no  sanc- 
tion in  modern  thought,  is  the  first  commandment  of 
Natural  Religion. 

The  sociologist  has  grievously  complained  of  late 
that  he  could  get  but  little  help  from  science.  Tlie 
suggestions  of  Bagehot,  the  Synthetic  Philosophy  of 
Herbert  Spencer,  the  proposals  of  nndlitudes  of  the 
followers  of  the  last  who  announced  the  redemption 
of  the  world  the  moment  they  discovered  the  "  Social 
Oi'ganisms,"  raised  great  expectations.  But  somehow 
they  were  not  fulfilled.  Mv.  Spencer's  work  has  been 
mainly  to  give  this  century,  and  in  part  all  time,  its 
first  great  map  of  the  field.  He  has  brought  all  the 
pieces  on  the  board,  described  them  one  by  one,  de- 
fined and  explained  the  game.  But  what  he  has 
failed  to  do  with  sufficient  precision,  is  to  pick  out  the 
King  and  Queen.  And  because  he  has  not  done  so, 
1  Ecolution  and  Ethics,  p.  27. 


44  INTRODUCriON. 


some  men  have  mistaken  his  pawns  for  kings  ;  others 
have  mistaken  the  real  kings  for  pawns ;  every  ism 
has  found  endorsement  in  his  pages,  and  men  have 
gathered  courage  for  projects  as  hostile  to  his  Avhole 
philosophy  as  to  social  order.  Theories  of  progress 
have  arisen  without  any  knowledge  of  its  laws,  and 
the  ordered  course  of  things  has  been  done  violence  to 
by  experiments  which,  unless  the  infinite  conserva- 
tism of  Nature  had  neutralized  their  evils,  had  been 
a  worse  disaster  than  they  are.  This  inadequacy,  in- 
deed, of  modern  sociology  to  meet  the  practical  prob- 
lems of  our  time,  has  become  a  by-word.  Mr.  Leslie 
Stephen  pronounces  the  existing  science  "  a  heap  of 
vague  empirical  observation,  too  flimsy  to  be  useful "  ; 
and  Mr.  Iluxley,  exasperated  with  the  condition  in 
which  it  leaves  the  human  family,  prays  that  if 
"  there  is  no  hope  of  a  large  improvement  "  he  should 
"hail  the  advent  of  some  kindly  comet  which  would 
sweep  the  whole  affair  away." 

The  first  step  in  the  reconstruction  of  Sociology  will 
be  to  escape  from  the  shadow  of  Darwinism — or  rather 
to  complement  the  Darwinian  fornmla  of  the  Struggle 
for  Life  by  a  second  factor  which  will  turn  its  dark- 
ness into  light.  A  new  morpliology  can  only  come 
from  a  new  physiology,  and  vice  versa;  and  for  both 
we  must  return  to  Nature.  The  one-sided  induction 
has  led  Sociology  into  a  wilderness  of  empiricism,  and 
only  a  complete  induction  can  reinstate  it  among  the 
sciences.  The  vacant  place  is  there  awaiting  it ;  and 
every  earnest  mind  is  prepared  to  welcome  it,  not  only 
as  the  coming  science,  but  as  the  crowning  Science  of 
all  the  sciences,  the  Science,  indeed,  for  which  it  will 
one  day  be  seen  every  other  science  exists.     What   it 


EVOLUTION  AND  SOCIOLOGY.  45 

waits  for  meantime  is  what  every  science  has  had  to 
wait  for,  exhaustive  observation  of  tlie  facts  and  ways 
of  Nature.  Geology  stood  still  for  centuries  waiting 
for  those  who  would  simply  look  at  the  facts.  Men 
speculated  in  fantastic  ways  as  to  how  the  world 
could  have  been  made,  and  the  last  thing  that  oc- 
curred to  tliem  was  to  go  and  see  it  making.  Then 
came  the  observers,  men  who,  waiving  all  theories  of 
the  process,  addressed  themselves  to  the  natural 
world  dh'ect,  and  in  watching  its  daily  programme  of 
falling  rani  and  running  stream  laid  bare  the  secret 
for  all  time.  Sociology  has  had  its  Werners  ;  it  awaits 
its  Iluttons.  The  method  of  Sociology  must  be  the 
method  of  all  the  natural  sciences.  It  also  must  go 
and  see  the  world  making,  not  where  the  conditions  are 
already  abnormal  beyond  recall,  or  where  Man,  by 
irregular  action,  has  already  obscured  everything  but 
the  conditions  of  failure ;  but  in  lower  Nature  which 
makes  no  mistakes,  and  in  those  fairer  reaches  of  a 
higher  world  where  the  quality  and  the  stability  of 
the  progress  are  guarantees  that  the  eternal  order  of 
Nature  has  had  her  uncorrupted  way. 

It  cannot  be  that  the  full  programme  for  the  perfect 
world  lies  in  the  imperfect  part.  Nor  can  it  ever  be 
that  science  can  find  the  end  in  the  beginning,  get 
moral  out  of  non-moral  states,  evolve  human  societies 
from  ant-heaps,  or  philanthropies  from  protoplasm. 
But  in  every  beghniing  we  get  a  beginning  of  an  end; 
in  every  process  a  key  to  the  single  step  to  be  taken 
next.  Tlie  full  corn  is  not  in  the  ear,  but  the  first  cell 
of  it  is,  and  though  "  it  doth  not  yet  appear  "  what 
tlic  million-celled  ear  shall  be,  there  is  rational  ground 
for  judging  what  the  second  cell  shall  be.     The  next 


46  INTRODUCTION. 


few  cells  of  the  Soci;il  Organism  are  all  that  are  given 
to  Sociology  to  affect.  And,  in  dealing  with  them,  its 
business  is  with  the  forces;  the  phenomena  will 
take  care  of  themselves.  Neither  the  great  forces 
of  Nature,  nor  the  great  lines  of  Nature,  change  in  a 
day,  and  however  apparently  unrelated  seem  the  phe- 
nomena as  we  ascend — here  animal,  there  luiman  ;  at 
one  time  non-moral,  at  another  moral — the  lines  of 
progress  are  the  same.  Nature,  in  liorizontal  section, 
is  broken  up  into  strata  which  present  to  the  eye  of 
ethical  Man  the  profoundest  distinctions  in  the  uni- 
verse ;  but  Nature  in  the  vertical  section  offers  no 
break,  or  jiause,  or  flaw.  To  study  the  first  is  to  study 
a  hundred  unrelated  sciences,  sciences  of  atoms,  sci- 
ences of  cells,  sciences  of  Souls,  sciences  of  Societies  ; 
to  study  the  second  is  to  deal  witli  one  science — Evo- 
lution'. Here,  on  the  horizontal  section,  may  be  what 
Geology  calls  an  unconformability  ;  there  is  overlap ; 
changes  of  climate  may  be  registered  from  time  to 
time  each  with  its  appropriate  re-action  on  the  things 
contained  ;  ujjheavals,  depressions,  denudations,  glacia- 
ti(Mis,  faults,  vary  the  scene;  higher  forms  of  fossils 
appear  as  we  ascend;  but  the  laws  of  life  are  con- 
tinuous througliout,  the  eternal  elements  in  an  ever 
temporal  world.  The  Struggle  for  Life,  and  the 
Struggle  for  the  Life  of  Others,  in  essential  nature 
have  never  changed.  They  find  new  expression  in 
each  further  sphere,  become  colored  to  our  eye  with 
different  hues,  are  there  the  rivalries  or  the  affections 
of  the  brute,  and  here  the  industrial  or  the  moral 
conflicts  of  the  race ;  but  the  factors  themselves  re- 
main the  same,  and  all  life  moves  in  widening  spirals 
round  them.     Fix  in  the  mind  this  distinction  between 


EVOLUTION  AND  SOCIOLOGY.  47 

the  horizontal  and  the  vertical  view  of  Nature,  be- 
tween the  phenomena  and  the  law,  between  a:l  the 
sciences  that  ever  were  and  the  one  science  Avhich 
resolves  them  all,  and  the  confusions  and  contra- 
dictions of  Evolution  are  reconciled.  The  man  who 
deals  with  Nature  statically,  who  catalog-nes  the 
phenomena  of  life  and  mind,  puts  on  each  its  museum 
label,  and  arranges  them  in  their  separate  cases,  may 
well  defy  3M)U  to  co-relate  such  diverse  wholes.  To 
him  Evolution  is  alike  impossible  and  unthinkable. 
But  these  items  that  he  labels  are  not  wholes.  And 
the  world  he  dissects  is  not  a  museum,  but  a  living, 
moving  and  ascending  thing.  The  sociologist's  bus- 
iness is  with  tlie  vertical  section,  and  he  who  has  to 
do  with  this  living,  moving,  and  ascending  thing 
must  treat  it  from  the  dynamic  point  of  view. 

The  significant  thing  for  him  is  the  study  of  Evolu- 
tion on  its  working  side.  And  he  will  find  that  nearly 
all  the  phenomena  of  social  and  national  life  are 
phenomena  of  these  two  principles — the  Struggle  for 
Life,  and  the  Struggle  for  the  Life  of  Others.  Hence 
he  must  betake  himself  in  earnest  to  see  what  these 
mean  in  Nature,  what  gathers  round  them  as  they 
ascend,  how  each  acts  separately,  how  they  work 
together,  and  whither  they  seem  to  lead.  More  than 
ever  the  method  of  Sociology  nuist  bo  biological. 
More  urgently  than  ever  "tlie  time  has  come  for  a 
better  understanding  and  for  a  more  radical  method  ; 
for  the  social  sciences  to  strengthen  themselves  by 
sending  their  roots  deep  into  the  soil  underneath  from 
which  they  sprhig,  and  for  the  biologist  to  advance 
over  the  frontier  and  carry  the  methods  of  his  science 
boldly  into  human  society,  where  he  has  but  to  deal 


48  INTRODUCTION. 


with  the  phenomena  of  life,  where  he  encounters  life 
at  last  under  its  highest  and  most  complex  aspect."  ^ 

Would  that  the  brilliant  writer  whose  words  these 
are,  and  whose  striking  work  appears  while  these 
sheets  are  almost  in  the  press,  Iiad  "  sent  his  roots 
deep  enough  into  biological  soil "  to  discover  the  true 
foundation  for  that  future  Science  of  Society  which  he 
sees  to  be  so  imperative.  No  modern  thinker  has  seen 
the  problem  so  clearly  as  Mr.  Kidd,  but  his  solution, 
profoundly  true  in  itself,  is  vitiated  in  the  eyes  of 
science  and  philosophy  by  a  basis  wholly  unsound. 
With  an  emphasis  which  Darwin  himself  has  not  ex- 
celled, he  proclaims  the  enduring  value  of  the  Struggle 
for  Life.  lie  sees  its  immense  significance  even  in  the 
highest  ranges  of  the  social  sphere.  There  it  stands 
with  its  imperious  call  to  individual  assertion,  inciting 
to  a  rivalry  which  Nature  herself  has  justified,  and 
encouraging  every  man  by  the  highest  sanctions 
ceaselessly  to  seek  his  own.  But  he  sees  nothing  else 
in  Nature ;  and  he  encounters  therefore  the  diflticulty 
inevitable  from  this  stand-point.  For  to  obey  this  voice 
means  ruin  to  Society,  wrong  and  anarchy  against  the 
higher  Man.  lie  listens  for  another  voice ;  but  there 
is  no  response.  As  a  social  being  he  cannot,  in  spite  of 
Nature,  act  on  his  first  initiative.  He  must  subordi- 
nate himself  to  the  larger  interest,  present  and  future, 
of  those  around  him.  But  why,  he  asks,  must  he,  since 
Nature  says  "  Mind  thyself  ? "  Till  Nature  adds  the 
further  precept,  "Look  not  every  man  on  his  own 
things,  but  also  on  the  things  of  Others,"  there  is  no 
rational  sanction  for  morality.     And  he  finds  no  such 

^  Benjamin  Kidd,  Social  Evolution,  \).  28. 


EVOLUTION  AND  SOCIOLOGY.  49 

precept.  There  is  none  in  Nature.  There  is  none  in 
Keason.  Nature  can  only  point  him  to  a  strenuous 
rivalry  as  the  one  conditioji  of  continued  progress; 
Itcason  (!an  only  endorse  the  verdict.  Hence  he  hreaks 
at  once  with  reason  and  with  Nature,  and  seeks  an 
"ultra-rational  sanction"  for  the  future  course  of 
social  progress. 

Here,  in  his  own  words,  is  the  situation.  "Tlie 
teaching  of  reason  to  the  individual  nuist  always  he 
that  the  present  time  and  his  own  interests  therein 
are  all-im[)ortant  to  him.  That  the  foi'ces  Avhich  are 
working  out  our  development  are  primarily  concerned 
not  with  those  interests  of  the  individual,  hut  with 
those  widely  different  interests  of  a  social  organism 
suhject  to  quite  other  conditions  and  possessed  of  an 
indefinitely  longer  life.  .  ,  .  The  central  fact  with 
which  we  are  confronted  in  our  progressive  societies 
is,  therefore,  that  the  interests  of  the  social  organism 
and  those  of  the  individuals  comprising  it  at  any  time 
are  actually  antagonistic;  they  can  never  he  recon- 
ciled; they  are  inherently  and  essentially  irreconcil- 
ahle."  ^  Ohserve  the  extraordinary  dilennua.  Iveasou 
not  only  has  no  help  for  the  fui'ther  progress  of 
Society,  hut  Society  can  only  go  on  upon  a  j)riuciple 
which  is  an  affront  to  it.  As  ]Man  can  only  attain  his 
highest  development  in  Society,  his  individual  in- 
terests must  more  and  more  suhoi'dinate  themselves 
to  the  welfare  of  a  wider  whole.  "  How  is  the  posses- 
sion of  reason  ever  to  he  rendered  coni[)a,tihle  with  the 
will  to  suhmit  the  conditions  of  existence  so  onerous, 
requiring  the  effective  and  ('onlinual  subordination  of 
the  individuars  welfare   to  the  jjrogress  of  a  de\{'l()!)- 

1  Op.  (•//.,  1)    V 


50  INTR  OD  UCTION. 


ment  in  which  lie  can  have  no  personal  interest  \\\vAt- 
ever  ?  "  ^ 

Mr.  Kidd's  answer  is  the  bold  one  that  it  is  not  com- 
patible. There  is  no  rational  sanction  whatever  for 
progress.  Progress,  in  fact,  can  only  go  on  by  enlist- 
ing JNIan's  reason  against  itself.  "All  those  systems 
of  moral  i^hilosophy,  which  have  sought  to  find  in  the 
nature  of  things  a  rational  sanction  for  human  conduct 
in  society,  nmst  sweep  round  and  round  in  futile 
circles.  They  attempt  an  inherently  impossible  task. 
The  first  great  social  lesson  of  those  evolutionary  doc- 
trines which  have  transformed  the  science  of  the  nine- 
teenth century  is,  that  there  cannot  be  such  a  sanc- 
tion.^ .  .  .  The  extraordinary  character  of  the 
problem  presented  by  human  society  begins  thus 
slowly  to  come  into  view.  We  find  man  making  con- 
tinual progress  upwards,  progress  which  it  is  almost 
beyond  the  power  of  the  imagination  to  grasp.  From 
being  a  competitor  of  the  brutes  he  has  reached  a 
point  of  development  at  which  he  cannot  himself  set 
any  limits  to  the  possibilities  of  further  progress,  and 
at  which  he  is  evidently  marching  on\^■ards  to  a  high 
destiny.  He  has  made  this  advance  under  the  stern- 
est conditions,  involving  rivaliy  and  competition  for 
all,  and  the  failure  and  suffering  of  great  numbers. 
His  reason  has  been,  and  necessarily  continues  to  be,  a 
leading  factor  in  this  development;  yet,  granting,  as 
we  apparently  must  grant,  the  possibility  of  the  re- 
versal of  the  conditions  from  which  his  progress 
results,  those  conditions  have  not  any  sanction  from 
his  reason.  They  have  had  no  such  sanction  at  any 
stage  of  his  history,  and  they  continue  to  be  as  much 
1  Op.  cit.,  p.  04.  2  o^-.  ^.;7.^  p,  79^ 


EVOLUTION  AND  SOCIOLOGY.  51 

without  such  sanctiou  in  the  highest  civilization  of  the 
present  day  as  at  any  past  period."  ^ 

These  conclusions  will  not  have  been  quoted  in  vain 
if  they  show  the  impossible  positions  to  which  a 
writer,  whose  contribution  oth'i'wise  is  of  profound 
and  permanent  value,  is  committed  by  a  false  reading 
of  Xature.  Is  it  conceivable,  a  priori,  that  the  human 
reason  should  be  put  to  confusion  by  a  breach  of  the 
Law  of  Continuity  at  the  very  point  where  its  sus- 
tained action  is  of  vital  moment?  The  whole  com- 
plaint, which  runs  like  a  dirge  through  every  chapter 
of  this  book,  is  founded  on  a  misapprehension  of  the 
fundamental  laws  which  govern  the  processes  of 
Evolution.  The  factors  of  Darwin  and  Weismaiui 
are  assumed  to  contain  an  ultimate  interpretation  of 
the  course  of  things.  For  all  time  the  conditions  of 
existence  are  taken  as  established  by  these  authorities. 
With  the  Struggle  for  Life  in  sole  possession  of  the 
field  no  one,  therefore,  we  are  warned,  need  ever 
repeat  the  gratuitous  experiment  of  the  past,  of 
Socrates,  Plato,  Kant,  Hegel,  Comte,  and  Herbert 
Spencer,  to  find  a  sanction  for  molality  in  Xature. 
"All  methods  and  systems  alike,  which  have  endeav- 
ored to  find  in  the  natui'e  of  things  any  universal 
rational  sanction  for  individual  conduct  in  a  progress- 
ive society,  must  be  ultimately  fruitless.  They  ai'e 
all  alike  inherently  unscientific  in  that  they  attempt 
to  do  what  the  fundamental  conditions  of  existence 
render  impossible."  And  jMr.  Kidd  puts  a  climax  on 
his  devotion  to  the  doctrine  of  his  masters  by  mourn- 
ing over  "  the  incalculable  loss  to  English  Science 
and  p]nglish  Philosophy"  because  Ilcibcrt  Spencer's 
^  Oy).  clt.,  pp.   77-78. 


52  INTRODUCTION. 


work  "  was  practically  complete  before  his  intellect 
had  any  opportunity  of  realizing  the  full  transform- 
ing  effect  in  the  higher  regions  of  thought,  and,  more 
particularly,  in  the  department  of  sociolog}^  of  that 
development  of  biological  science  Miiicli  began  with 
Darwin,  which  is  still  in  full  progress,  and  to  which 
Professor  Weismaini  has  recently  made  the  most 
notable  contributions."  ^  Whether  ]Mr.  Spencer's 
ignorance  or  his  science  has  been  at  the  bottom  of 
the  escape,  it  is  at  least  a  lucky  one.  For  if  Mr. 
Kidd  had  realized  "the  full  transforming  effect" 
of  the  following  paragraph,  much  of  his  book  could 
not  have  been  written.  "  The  most  general  conclusion 
is  that  in  order  of  obligation,  the  preservation  of  the 
species  takes  precedence  of  the  preservation  of  the 
individual.  It  is  true  that  the  species  has  no  existence 
save  as  an  aggregate  of  individuals;  and  it  is  true  that, 
therefore,  the  welfare  of  the  species  is  an  end  to  be 
subserved  only  as  subserving  the  welfare  of  individ- 
uals. But  since  disappearance  of  the  species,  imply- 
ing absolute  disappearance  of  all  individuals,  involves 
absolute  failure  in  achieving  the  end,  whereas  disap- 
pearance of  individuals  though  carried  to  a  great 
extent,  may  leave  outstanding  such  numbers  as  can, 
by  continuance  of  the  species,  make  subsequent  fulfil- 
ment of  the  end  possible ;  the  preservation  of  the 
individual  must,  in  a  variable  degree  according  to 
circumstances,  be  subordinated  to  the  preservation  of 
the  sj^ecies,  where  the  two  conflict."  "^ 

What  Mr.  Kidd  has  succeeded,  and  splendidly 
succeeded,  in  doing  is  to  show  that  Nature  as  inter- 
preted in  terms  of  the  Struggle  for  Z,{fe  contains  no 

i  Op.  rif.,  p.  80  -  rrinriplcs  (,f  Etiiirx,  Vol.  ii.,  p.  G. 


EVOLUTION  AND  SOCIOLOGY.  53 


sanction  either  for  morality  or  for  social  progress. 
But  instead  of  giving  up  Nature  and  Reason  at  this 
point,  he  should  have  given  up  Darwin.  The  Struggle 
for  Life  is  not  "  the  supreme  fact  up  to  which  biology 
has  slowly  advanced."  It  is  the  fact  to  which  Darwin 
advanced  ;  but  if  biology  had  been  thoroughly  con- 
sulted it  could  not  have  given  so  maimed  an  account 
of  itself.  With  the  final  conclusion  reached  by  Mr. 
Kidd  we  have  no  quarrel.  Eliminate  the  errors  due 
to  an  unrevised  acceptance  of  Mr.  Darwin's  interpret- 
ation of  Nature,  and  his  work  remains  the  most 
important  contribution  to  Social  Evolution  which  the 
last  decade  has  seen.  IJut  wlui.t  startles  us  is  his 
method.  To  put  the  future  of  Social  Science  on  an 
ultra-rational  basis  is  practically  to  give  it  up.  Un- 
less thinking  men  have  some  sense  of  the  consistency 
of  a  method  they  cannot  work  with  it,  and  if  there  is 
no  guarantee  of  the  stability  of  the  results  it  would 
not  be  worth  while. 

But  all  that  Mr.  Kidd  desires  is  really  to  be  found 
in  Nature.  There  is  no  single  element  even  of  his 
highest  sanction  which  is  not  provided  for  in  a 
thorough-going  doctrine  of  Evolution — a  doctrine, 
that  is,  which  includes  all  the  facts  and  all  the  factors, 
and  especially  which  takes  into  account  that  evolution 
of  Environment  which  goes  on  jxo-i  j^assu  with  the 
evolution  of  the  organism  and  where  the  liighest  sanc- 
tions ultimately  lie.  With  an  Environment  which 
widens  and  enriches  until  it  includes — or  consciously 
includes,  for  it  has  never  been  absent — the  Divine; 
and  with  Man  so  evolving  as  to  become  more  and 
more  conscious  that  that  Divine  is  there,  and  above 
all  that  it  is  in  himself,  all  the  materials  and  all  the 


54  IN  TTt  01)  UCTION. 


sanctions  for  a  moral  progress  are  forever  secure. 
None  of  the  sanctions  of  religion  are  witlidrawn  by 
adding  to  them  the  sanctions  of  Nature.  Even  those 
sanctions  which  are  supposed  to  lie  over  and  above 
Nature  may  be  none  the  less  rational  sanctions. 
Though  a  positive  religion,  in  the  Comtian  sense,  is 
no  religion,  a  religion  tliat  is  not  in  some  degree  posi- 
tive is  an  impossibility.  And  although  religion  must 
always  rest  upon  faith,  there  is  a  reason  for  faith,  and 
a  reason  not  only  in  Reason,  but  in  Nature  herself. 
When  Evolution  comes  to  be  worked  out  along  its 
great  natural  lines,  it  may  be  found  to  provide  for  all 
that  religion  assumes,  all  that  philosopliy  requires, 
and  all  that  science  proves. 

Theological  minds,  with  premature  approval,  have 
hailed  JVIr.  Kidd's  solution  as  a  vindication  of  their 
supreme  position.  Practically,  as  a  vindication  of  the 
dynamic  power  of  the  religious  factor  in  the  Evolution 
of  Mankind,  nothing  could  be  more  convincing.  But 
as  an  apologetic,  it  only  accentuates  a  weakness  which 
scientific  theology  never  felt  more  keenly  than  at  the 
present  hour.  This  weakness  can  never  be  i-emoved 
by  an  appeal  to  the  ultra-rational.  Does  Mr.  Kidd 
not  perceive  that  any  one  possessed  of  reason  enough 
to  encounter  his  dilemma,  either  in  the  sphere  of 
thought  or  of  conduct,  will  also  have  reason  enough 
to  reject  any  "ultra-rational"  solution?  This  di- 
lemma is  not  one  which  would  occur  to  more  than  one 
in  a  thousand  ;  it  has  tasked  all  jMr.  Kidd's  powers  to 
convince  his  reader  that  it  exists  ;  but  if  exceptional 
intellect  is  required  to  see  it,  surely  exceptional  in- 
tellect must  perceive  that  this  is  not  the  way  out  of  it. 
One  cannot,  in  fact,  thuik  oneself  out  of  a  difficulty  of 


EVOLUTION  A XI)  SOCIOLOCV.  55 

this  kind  ;  it  can  only  be  lived  out.  And  that  precisely 
is  wliat  Nature  is  making  all  of  us,  in  greater  or  less 
degree,  do,  and  every  day  making  us  do  more.  By 
tlie  time,  indeed,  that  the  world  as  a  whole  is  suffi- 
ciently educated  to  see  the  problem,  it  will  already 
have  been  solved.  There  is  little  comfort,  then,  for 
apologetics  in  this  direction.  Only  by  bringing  theol- 
ogy into  harmony  with  Nature  and  into  line  with  the 
rest  of  our  knowledge  can  the  noble  interests  given  it 
to  conserve  retain  their  vitality  in  a  scientific  age. 
The  first  essential  of  a  working  religion  is  that  it  shall 
be  congruous  with  Man ;  the  second  that  it  shall  be 
congruous  with  Nature.  Whatever  its  sanctions,  its 
forces  must  not  be  abnormal,  but  reinforcements  and 
higlier  potentialities  of  those  forces  which,  from  eter- 
nity, have  shaped  the  progress  of  the  world.  No 
other  dynamic  can  enter  into  the  working  schemes  of 
those  who  seek  to  guide  the  destinies  <^)f  nations  or 
carry  on  the  Evolution  of  Society  on  scientific  princi- 
ples, A  divorce  here  would  be  the  catastrophe  of 
reason,  and  the  end  of  faith.  We  believe  with  Mr. 
Kidd  that  "  the  process  of  social  development  which 
has  been  taking  place,  and  which  is  still  in  progress, 
in  our  Western  civilization,  is  not  the  i)roduct  of  the 
intellect,  but  the  motive  force  behind  it  has  had  its 
seat  and  origin  in  the /(uid  of  altruistic /eelinr/ with 
which  our  civilization  has  become  equipped."  But  we 
shall  endeavor  to  show  that  this  fund  of  altruistic 
feeling  has  been  slowly  funded  in  the  race  by  Nature, 
or  tlirough  Nature,  and  as  the  direct  and  inevitable 
result  of  that  Struggle  f(jr  the  Life  of  Others,  which 
has  been  from  all  time  a  condition  of  existence. 
What    religion    has    done    to    build    up    this    fund, 


56  INTRODUCTION. 


it  may  not  be  within  tlie  scope  of  this  ii)troduc- 
tory  volume  to  inquire ;  it  has  done  so  mucli  that 
students  of  religion  may  almost  be  pardoned  the  over- 
sight of  the  stupendous  natural  basis  which  made  it 
possible.  But  nothing-  is  gained  by  protesting  that 
"this  altruistic  development,  and  the  deepening  and 
softening  of  character  which  has  accompanied  it,  are 
the  direct  and  ^jec«//«r  p'^'oduct  of  the  I'eligious 
system."  For  nothing  can  ever  be  gained  by  setting 
one  half  of  Nature  agai)ist  the  otlier,  or  the  rational 
against  the  ultra-rational,  ^j'o  affirm  that  Alti'uism  is 
a  peculiar  product  of  religion  is  to  excommunicate 
Nature  from  the  moral  order,  and  religion  from  the 
rational  order.  If  science  is  to  begin  to  recognize 
religion,  religion  must  at  least  end  by  recognizing 
science.  And  so  far  from  religion  sacrificing  vital 
distinctions  by  allying  itself  with  Nature,  so  far  from 
impoverishing  its  immortal  quality  by  accepting  some 
contribution  from  the  lower  s[)here,  it  thereby  extends 
itself  over  the  whole  ricli  field,  and  claims  all — matter, 
life,  mind,  space,  time — for  itself.  Tlie  present  danger 
is  not  in  applying  Evolution  as  a  method,  but  only  in 
not  cari'ving  it  far  enough.  No  mail,  no  man  of  sci- 
ence even,  observing  the  simple  facts,  can  ever  rob 
religion  of  its  due.  Religion  has  done  more  for  the 
development  of  Altruism  in  a  few  centuries  than  all 
the  millenniums  of  geological  time.  But  we  dare  not 
rob  Nature  of  its  due.  We  dare  not  say  that  Nature 
played  the  prodigal  for  ages,  and  reformed  at  the 
eleventh  hour.  If  Nature  is  the  Garment  of  God,  it  is 
woven  without  seam  throughout;  if  a  revelation  of 
(xod,  it  is  the  same  yesterday,  to-day,  and  forever;  if 
the  expression  of  His  Will,  there  is  in  it  no  variable- 


EVOLUTION  AND  SOCIOLOGY.  57 

ness  nor  shadow  of  turning.  Those  who  see  great 
gulfs  fixed — and  we  liave  all  begun  by  seeing  them — ■ 
end  by  seeing  them  filled  up.  Were  these  gulfs  es- 
sential to  any  theory  of  the  universe  or  of  Man,  even 
the  establishment  of  the  unity  of  Nature  were  a  dear 
price  to  pay  for  obliterating  them.  But  the  apparent 
loss  is  only  gain,  and  the  seemin'^  gain  were  infinite 
loss.  For  to  break  up  Nature  is  to  break  up  Reason, 
and  with  it  God  and  Man. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  ASCENT  OF  THE  BODY. 

The  earliest  home  of  Primitive  Man  was  a  cave  in 
the  rocks — the  simplest  and  most  unevolvecl  form  of 
human  habitation.  One  day,  perhaps  driven  by  the 
want  within  his  hunting-grounds  of  the  natural  cave, 
he  made  himself  a  hut — an  artificial  cave.  This  sim- 
ple dwelling-place  was  a  one-roomed  hut  or  tent  of 
skin  and  boughs,  and  so  completely  does  it  satisfy 
the  rude  man's  needs  that  down  to  the  present  hour 
no  ordinary  savage  improves  upon  the  idea.  But  as 
the  hut  surrounds  itself  with  other  huts  and  grows 
hito  a  village,  a  new  departure  must  take  place.  The 
village  must  have  its  chief,  and  the  chief,  in  virtue  of 
his  larger  life,  requires  a  more  spacious  home.  Each 
village,  therefore,  adds  to  its  one-roomed  hut,  a  hut 
witli  two  rooms.  From  the  two-roomed  hut  we  pass, 
among  certain  tribes,  to  three-  and  four-roomed  huts, 
and  finally  to  the  many-chambered  lodge  of  the  Head- 
Chief  or  King. 

This  passage  from  the  simple  cave  to  the  many- 
chambered  lodge  is  an  Evolution,  and  a  similar  devel- 
opment may  be  traced  in  the  domestic  architecture  of 
all  civilized  societies.     The  laborer's  cottage  of  niod- 

59 


60  THE  ASCENT  OF  THE  BODV. 

ern  England  and  the  shieling  of  the  Highland  crofter 
are  the  survivals  of  the  one-roomed  hut  of  Primitive 
Man,  scarcely  changed  in  any  essential  with  the  lapse 
of  years.  In  the  squire's  mansion  also,  and  the  noble- 
man's castle,  we  have  the  representatives,  but  now  in 
an  immensely  developed  form,  of  the  many-roomed 
home  of  the  chief.  The  steps  by  which  the  cottage 
became  the  castle  are  the  same  as  those  by  which  the 
cave  in  the  rocks  became  the  lodge  of  the  chief. 
Both  processes  wear  the  hall-mark  of  all  true  devel- 
opment— they  arise  in  response  to  growing  necessi- 
ties, and  they  are  carried  out  by  the  most  simple  and 
natural  steps. 

In  this  evolution  of  a  human  habitation  we  have  an 
almost  perfect  type  of  the  evolution  of  that  more 
august  habitation,  the  complex  tenement  of  clay  in 
which  Man's  mysterious  being  has  its  home.  The 
Body  of  Man  is  a  structure  of  a  million,  or  a  million 
million  cells.  And  the  history  of  the  unborn  babe  is, 
in  the  first  instance,  a  history  of  additions,  of  room 
being  added  to  room,  of  organ  to  organ,  of  faculty  to 
faculty.  The  general  process,  also,  by  which  this 
takes  place  is  almost  as  clear  to  modern  science  as  in 
the  case  of  material  buildings.  A  special  class  of  ob- 
servers has  carefully  watched  these  secret  and  amaz- 
ing metamorphoses,  and  so  wonderful  has  been  their 
success  with  mind  and  microscope  that  they  can  al- 
most claim  to  have  seen  Man's  Body  made.  The  Sci- 
ence of  Embryology  undertakes  to  trace  the  develop- 
ment of  Man  from  a  stage  in  which  he  lived  in  a  one- 
roomed  house — a  physiological  cell.  Whatever  the 
multitude  of  rooms,  the  millions  and  millions  of  cells, 
in  which  to-day  each  adult  carries  on  the  varied  work 


THE  ASCENT  OF  THE  BODY.  61 

of  life,  it  is  certain  that  when  lie  first  began  to  be  he 
was  the  sJmple  tenant  of  a  single  cell.  Observe,  it  is 
not  some  animal-ancestor  or  some  human  progenitor 
of  Man  that  lived  in  this  single  cell — that  may  or  may 
not  have  been — but  the  individual  Man,  the  present 
occupant  himself.  We  are  dealing  now  not  witli  phy- 
logeny — the  history  of  the  race — but  witli  ontogeny — • 
the  problem  of  Man's  Ascent  from  his  own  earlier  self. 
And  the  point  at  tlie  moment  is  not  that  the  race  as- 
cends ;  it  is  that  each  individual  man  has  once,  in  his 
own  life-time,  occupied  a  single  cell,  and  starting  from 
that  humble  cradle,  has  passed  through  stage  after 
stage  of  differentiation,  increase,  and  development, 
until  the  myriad-roomed  adult-form  Avas  attained. 
Wlience  that  first  cradle  came  is  at  present  no  matter. 
Wliether  its  remote  progenitor  rocked  among  the 
waves  of  primeval  seas  or  swung  from  the  boughs  of 
forests  long  since  metamorphosed  into  coal  does  not 
affect  the  question  of  the  individual  ascent  of  Man. 
The  answers  to  these  questions  are  hypotheses.  Tlie 
fact  that  now  arrests  our  wonder  is  that  when  the  ear- 
liest trace  of  an  infant's  organization  meets  the  eye 
of  science  it  is  nothing  but  a  one-celled  animal.  And 
so  closely  does  its  development  from  tliat  distant 
point  follow  the  lines  of  the  evolution  just  described 
in  the  case  of  the  primitive  savage  hut,  that  we  have 
but  to  make  a  few  changes  in  phraseology  to  make  the 
one  process  describe  the  other.  Instead  of  rooms  and 
chambers  we  shall  now  read  cells  and  tissues ;  instead 
of  the  builder's  device  of  adding  room  to  room,  we 
shall  use  the  physiologist's  term  seffmentation ;  the 
employments  carried  on  in  the  various  rooms  will  be- 
come the  functions  discharged  by  the  organs  of  the 


62  THE  ASCENT  OF  THE  BODY. 

human  frame,  and  line  for  line  the  history  of  the  evo. 
kition  will  be  found  to  be  tlie  same. 

The  embryo  of  the  future  man  begins  life,  like  the 
primitive  savage,  in  a  one-roomed  hut,  a  single  simple 
cell.  This  cell  is  round  and  almost  microscopic  in 
size.  When  fully  formed  it  measures  only  one-tenth 
of  a  line  in  diameter,  and  with  the  naked  eye  can  be 
barely  discerned  as  a  very  fine  point.  An  outer  cover- 
ing, transparent  as  glass,  surrounds  this  little  sphere, 
and  in  the  interior,  embedded  in  protoplasm,  lies  a 
bright  globular  spot.  In  form,  in  size,  in  composition 
there  is  no  apparent  difference  between  this  human 
cell  and  that  of  any  other  mammal.  The  dog,  the  ele- 
phant, the  lion,  the  ape,  and  a  thousand  others  begin 
their  widely  different  lives  in  a  house  the  same  as 
Man's.  At  an  earlier  stage  indeed,  before  it  has  taken 
on  its  pellucid  covering,  this  cell  has  affinities  still 
more  astonishing.  For  at  that  remoter  period  the  ear- 
lier forms  of  all  living  things,  both  plant  and  animal, 
are  one.  It  is  one  of  the  most  astounding  facts  of 
modern  science  that  the  first  embryonic  abodes  of 
moss  and  fern  and  pine,  of  shark  and  crab  and  coral 
polyp,  of  lizard,  leopard,  monkey,  and  Man  are  so 
exactly  similar  that  the  highest  powers  of  mind  and 
microscope  fail  to  trace  the  smallest  distinction  be- 
tween them. 

But  let  us  watch  the  development  of  this  one-celled 
human  embryo.  Increase  of  rooms  in  architecture  can 
be  effected  in  either  of  two  ways — by  building  entirely 
new  rooms,  or  by  partitioning  old  ones.  Both  of  these 
methods  are  employed  in  Nature.  The  first,  gemma- 
tion, or  budding,  is  common  among  the  lower  forms  of 
life.     The  second,  differentiation  by  partition,  or  seg* 


THE  ASCENT  OF  THE  BODY.  63 

mentation,  is  the  approved  method  among  higher 
animals,  and  is  that  adoj^ted  in  tlie  case  of  ]Man.  It 
proceeds,  after  the  fertilized  ovum  has  completed  the 
complex  preliminaries  of  karyokinesis,  by  the  division 
of  the  interior-contents  into  two  equal  parts,  so  that 
the  original  cell  is  now  occupied  by  two  nucleated  cells 
with  the  old  cell-wall  surrounding  them  outside.  The 
two-roomed  house  is,  in  the  next  development,  and  by 
a  similar  process  of  segmentation,  developed  into  a 
structure  of  four  rooms,  and  this  into  one  of  eight,  and 
so  on.^    In  a  short  time  the  number  of  chambers  is  so 


^  When  the  muiticelhilar  globe,  made  up  of  countless  offshoots 
or  divisions  of  the  original  pair,  has  reached  a  certain  size,  its 
centre  becomes  filled  with  a  tiny  lakelet  of  watery  fluid.  This 
fluid  gradually  increases  in  quantity  and,  pushing  the  cells  out- 
ward, packs  thein  into  a  single  layer,  circumscribing  it  on  every 
side  as  with  an  elastic  wall.  At  one  part  a  dimple  soon  appears, 
which  slowly  deepens,  until  a  complete  hollow  is  formed.  So  far 
does  this  invagination  of  the  sphere  go  on  tliat  the  cells  at  the 
bottom  of  the  hollow  touch  those  at  the  opposite  side.  The  ovum 
has  now  become  an  open  bag  or  cup,  sucli  as  one  might  make  by 
doubling  in  an  india-rubber  ball,  and  thus  is  formed  the  c/astruht, 
of  biology.  The  evolutional  interest  of  this  process  lies  in  the 
fact  that  probably  all  animals  above  the  Protozoa  pass  through 
this  gastrula  stage.  That  some  of  the  lower  Metazon,  indeed, 
never  develop  much  beyond  it,  a  glance  at  the  structure  of  the 
humbler  Coelenterates  will  show — the  simplest  of  all  illustra- 
tions of  the  fact  that  embryonic  forms  of  higher  animals  are  often 
permanently  represented  by  the  adult  forms  of  lower.  The  chief 
thing  however  to  mark  here  is  the  doubling-in  of  the  ovum  to 
gain  a  double  instead  of  a  single  wall  of  cells.  For  these  two 
different  layers,  the  ectoderm  and  the  endoderm,  or  the  animal 
layer  and  the  vegetal  layer,  play  a  unique  part  in  the  after- 
history.  All  the  organs  of  movement  and  sensation  spring  from 
the  one,  all  the  organs  of  nutrition  and  roproduction  develop  from 
the  other. 


-^ 


64  THE  ASCENT  OF  THE  BODY. 

great  that  count  is  lost,  and  the  activity  becomes  so 
vigorous  in  every  direction  tliat  one  ceases  to  notice 
individual  cells  at  all.  The  tenement  in  fact  consists 
now  of  innumerable  groups  of  cells  congregated  to- 
gether, suites  of  apartments  as  it  were,  which  have 
quickly  arranged  tliemselves  in  symmetrical,  definite, 
and  withal  different  forms.  Were  these  forms  not 
different  as  well  as  definite  we  should  hardly  call  it  an 
evolution,  nor  should  we  characterize  the  resulting 
aggregation  as  a  higher  organism.  A  hundred  cot- 
tages placed  in  a  row  would  never  form  a  castle. 
What  makes  the  castle  superior  to  the  hundred  cot- 
tages is  not  the  number  of  its  rooms,  for  they  are  pos- 
sibly fewer ;  nor  their  difference  in  shape,  for  that  is 
immaterial.  It  lies  in  the  number  and  nature  and 
variety  of  useful  purposes  to  which  the  rooms  are  put, 
the  perfection  with  which  each  is  adapted  to  its  end, 
and  the  harmonious  co-operation  among  them  with 
reference  to  some  common  work.  This  also  is  the  dis- 
tinction between  a  higher  animal  and  a  humble  org;in- 
ism  such  as  the  centipede  or  the  worm.  These 
creatures  are  a  monotony  of  similar  rings,  like  a  string 
of  beads.  Each  bead  is  the  counterpart  of  the  other  ; 
and  with  such  an  organization  any  high  or  varied  life 
becomes  an  impossibility.  The  fact  that  any  growing 
embryo  is  passing  through  a  real  development  is  de- 
cided by  the  new  complexity  of  structure,  by  the  more 
perfect  division  of  labor,  and  of  better  kinds  of  labor, 
and  by  the  increase  in  range  and  efficiency  of  the  cor- 
related functions  discharged  b}^  the  whole.  In  the 
development  of  the  human  embryo  the  differentiating 
and  integrating  forces  are  steadily  acting  and  co-oper- 
atinc:  from  the  first,   so  that  the  result  is  not  a  mere 


THE  ASCENT  OF  THE  BODY.  05 

aggregution  of  similar  cells,  but  an  organism  with 
different  jjarts  and  many  varied  functions.  When  all 
is  complete  we  find  that  one  suite  of  cells  has  been 
especially  set  apart  to  provide  the  commissariat, 
otliers  have  devoted  themselves  exclusively  to  assimi- 
lation. The  ventilation  of  tne  house — respiration^ 
has  been  attended  to  by  others,  and  a  central  force- 
pump  has  been  set  up,  and  pipes  and  ducts  for  mauy 
purposes  installed  throughout  tlie  system.  Telegraph 
wires  have  next  been  stretched  in  every  direction  to 
keep  up  connection  between  the  endless  parts  ;  and 
other  cells  developed  into  bony  pillars  for  support. 
F'inally,  the  whole  delicate  structure  has  been  shielded 
by  a  variety  of  protective  coverings,  and  after  months 
and  years  of  further  elaboration  and  adjustment  the 
elaborate  fabric  is  complete.  Now  all  these  com- 
plicated contrivances — bones,  muscles,  nerves,  heart, 
brain,  lungs — are  made  out  of  cells ;  they  are  them- 
selves, and  in  their  furthest  development,  simply 
masses  or  suites  of  cells  modified  in  various  ways  for 
the  special  department  of  household  work  they  are 
rr.'iant  to  serve.  Xo  new  thing,  except  building 
luaier'ial,  has  entered  into  the  embryo  shice  its  first 
appearing.  It  seized  whatever  matter  lay  to  hand, 
incorporated  it  with  its  own  quickening  sul)stancc,  and 
built  it  in  to  its  appropriate  place.  So  the  structure 
rose  in  size  and  symmetry,  till  the  whole  had  climbed, 
a  miracle  of  unfolding,  to  the  stature  of  a  Man. 

But  the  beauty  of  this  development  is  not  the  sig- 
nificant thing  to  the  student  of  Evolution ;  nor  is  it 
the  occultness  of  the  process  nor  the  perfection  of  the 
result  that  fill  him  with  awe  as  he  surveys  the  finished 
work.  It  is  the  immense  distance  IMan  has  come. 
5 


66  THE  ASCENT  OF  THE  BODY. 

Between  the  early  cell  and  the  infant's  formed  body, 
the  ordmary  observer  sees  the  nneventful  passage  of 
a  few  brief  months.  ]>ut  the  evolutionist  sees  con- 
centrated into  these  few  months  tlie  labor  and  the 
progress  of  incalculable  ages.  Here  before  him  is  tlie 
whole  stretch  of  time  since  life  first  dawned  upon  the 
earth  ;  and  as  he  watches  the  nascent  organism  climb- 
ing to  its  maturity  he  witnesses  a  spectacle  which  for 
strangeness  and  majesty  stands  alone  in  the  field  of 
biological  research.  What  he  sees  is  not  the  mere 
shaj)ing  or  sculj^turing  of  a  Man.  The  human  form 
does  not  begin  as  a  human  fcn-m.  It  begins  as  an 
animal ;  and  at  first,  and  for  a  long  time  to  come  there 
is  nothing  wearing  the  remotest  semblance  of  human- 
ity. What  meets  the  eye  is  a  vast  procession  of  lower 
forms  of  life,  a  succession  of  strange  inhuman  creat- 
ures emerging  from  a  crowd  of  still  stranger  and  still 
more  inhuman  creatures;  and  it  is  only  after  a  pro- 
longed and  unrecognizable  series  of  metamorphoses 
that  they  culminate  in  some  faint  likeness  to  the  im- 
age of  him  who  is  one  of  the  newest  yet  the  oldest  of 
created  tilings.  Hitherto  we  have  been  taught  to  look 
among  the  fossiliferous  formations  of  Geology  for  the 
buried  lives  of  the  earth's  past.  But  Embryology  has 
startled  the  world  by  declaring  that  the  ancient  life  of 
the  earth  is  not  dead.  It  is  risen.  It  exists  to-day  in 
the  embryos  of  still-living  things,  and  some  of  the 
most  archaic  types  find  again  a  resurrection  and  a  life 
in  the  frame  of  man  himself. 

It  is  an  amazing  and  almost  incredible  story.  The 
proposition  is  not  only  that  Man  begins  his  earthly 
existence  in  the  guise  of  a  lower  animal-embryo,  but 
that  in  the  successive  transformations  of  the  human 


TUE  ASCENT  OF  THE  BODY.  67 

embryo  there  is  reproduced  before  our  eyes  a  visible, 
actual,  physical  representation  of  pai't  of  the  life- 
history  of  the  world.  Human  Embryology  is  a  con- 
densed account,  a  recapitulation  or  epitome  of  some  of 
the  main  chapters  in  the  Natural  History  of  the  world. 
The  same  processes  of  development  which  once 
took  thousands  of  years  for  their  consummation  are 
here  condensed,  foreshortened,  concentrated  into  the 
space  of  weeks.  Each  platform  reached  by  the  human 
embryo  in  its  upward  course  represents  the  embryo  of 
some  lower  animal  which  in  some  mysterious  Avay  has 
played  a  part  in  the  pedigree  of  the  human  race,  which 
may  itself  have  disappeared  long  since  from  the  earth, 
but  is  now  and  forever  built  into  the  inmost  being  of 
Man.  These  lower  animals,  each  at  its  successive 
stage,  have  stopped  short  in  their  development ;  Man 
has  gone  on.  A',  each  fresh  advance  his  embryo  is 
found  again  abreast  of  some  other  animal-embryo  a 
little  higher  in  organization  than  that  just  passed. 
Continuing  his  ascent  that  also  is  overtaken,  the  now 
very  complex  embryo  making  up  to  one  animal-em- 
bryo after  another  until  it  has  distanced  all  in  its  series 
and  stands  alone.  As  the  modern  stem-winding  watch 
contains  the  old  clepsydra  and  all  the  most  useful 
features  in  all  the  timekeepers  that  were  ever  made ; 
as  the  Walter  printing-press  contains  the  rude  hand- 
machine  of  Gutenberg,  and  all  the  best  in  all  the 
machines  that  followed  it  ;  as  tlie  modern  locomotive 
of  to-day  contains  the  engine  of  Watt,  the  locomotive 
of  Iledley,  and  most  of  the  improvements  of  succeeding 
•  years,  so  Man  contains  the  embryonic  bodies  of  earlier 
and  humbler  and  clumsier  forms  of  life.  Yet  in 
making  the  Walter  press  in  a  modern  workshop,  tho 


68  THE  ASCENT  OF  THE  BODY. 

artificer  does  not  begin  by  building  again  the  press  ol 
Gutenberg,  nor  in  constructing  the  locomotive  does 
the  engineer  first  make  a  Watt's  machine  and  then 
incorporate  the  Iledley,  and  then  the  Stephenson,  and 
so  on  through  all  the  improving  types  of  engines  that 
have  led  up  to  this.  But  the  astonishing  thing  is  that, 
in  making  a  jNfan,  Nature  does  introduce  the  frame- 
work of  these  earlier  types,  displaying  each  crude 
pattern  by  itself  before  incorporating  it  in  the  finished 
work.  The  human  embryo,  to  change  the  figure,  is  a 
subtle  phantasmagoria,  a  living  theatre  in  which  a 
weird  transformation  scene  is  being  enacted,  and  in 
which  countless  strange  and  uncouth  characters  take 
part.  Some  of  these  characters  are  well-known  to 
science,  some  are  strangers.  As  the  embryo  unfolds, 
one  by  one  these  animal  actors  come  upon  the  stage, 
file  past  in  phantom-like  i)rocession,  throw  off  their 
drapery,  and  dissolve  away  into  something  else.  Yet, 
as  they  vanish,  each  leaves  behind  a  vital  portion  of 
itself,  some  original  and  characteristic  memorial,  some- 
thing itself  has  made  or  won,  that  perhaps  it  alone 
could  make  or  win — a  bone,  a  muscle,  a  ganglion,  or  a 
tooth — to  be  the  inheritance  of  the  race.  And  it  is 
only  after  nearly  all  have  played  their  part  and  dedi- 
cated their  gift,  that  a  human  form,  mysteriously 
compounded  of  all  that  has  gone  before,  begins  to  be 
discerned  in  their  midst. 

The  duration  of  this  process,  the  profound  antiquity 
of  the  last  survivor,  the  tremendous  height  he  has 
scaled,  are  inconceivable  by  the  faculties  of  Man.  But 
measure  the  very  lowest  of  the  successive  platforms 
passed  in  the  ascent,  and  see  how  very  great  a  thing 
it  is  even  to  i-ise   at  all.     The  single  cell,  the  first 


THE  ASCENT  OF  THE  BODY.  69 

definite  stage  wliicli  the  human  embryo  attains,  is  still 
the  adult  form  of  countless  millions  both  of  animals 
and  plants.  Just  as  in  modern  England  the  million- 
aire's mansion — the  evolved  form — is  surrounded  by- 
laborers'  cottages — the  simple  form — so  in  Nature, 
living  side  by  side  with  the  many-celled  higher  ani- 
mals, is  an  immense  democracy  of  unicellular  artizans. 
These  simple  cells  are  perfect  living  things.  The 
earth,  the  water,  and  the  air  teem  with  them  every- 
where. They  move,  they  eat,  they  reproduce  their 
like.  But  one  thing  they  do  not  do — they  do  not  rise.  n^,. 
These  organisms  have,  as  it  were,  stopped  short  in  the 
ascent  of  life.  And  long  as  evolution  has  worked 
upon  the  earth,  the  vast  numerical  majority  of  plants 
and  animals  are  still  at  this  low  stage  of  being.  So 
minute  are  some  of  these  forms  that  if  their  one- 
roomed  huts  were  arranged  in  a  row  it  would  take 
twelve  thousand  to  form  a  street  a  single  inch  in 
length.  In  their  watery  cities — for  most  of  them  are 
Lake-Dwellers — a  population  of  eight  hundred  thou- 
sand million  could  be  accommodated  within  a  cubic 
inch.  Yet,  as  there  was  a  period  in  human  history 
when  none  but  cave-dwellers  lived  in  Europe,  so  was 
there  a  time  when  the  highest  forms  of  life  upon  the 
globe  were  these  microscopic  things.  See,  therefore, 
the  meaning  of  Evolution  from  the  want  of  it.  In  a 
single  hour  or  second  the  human  embryo  attains  the 
platform  which  represents  the  whole  life-achievement 
of  myriads  of  generations  of  created  things,  and  the 
next  day  or  hour  is  immeasurable  centuries  beyond 
them. 

Through   all    what   zoological   regions   the   embryo 
passes  in  its  great  ascent  from  the  one-celled  forms, 


70  THE  ASCENT  OF  THE  BODY. 

one  can  never  completely  tell.  The  changes  succeed 
one  another  with  such  rapidity  that  it  is  impossible 
at  each  separate  stage,  to  catch  the  actual  likeness 
to  other  embryos.  Sometimes  a  familiar  feature  sud- 
denly recalls  a  foi-m  well-known  to  science,  but  the 
likeness  fades,  and  the  developing  embryo  seems  to 
wander  among  the  ghosts  of  departed  types.  Long 
ago  these  crude  ancestral  forms  were  again  the  high- 
est animals  upon  the  earth.  For  a  few  thousand 
years  they  reigned  supreme,  furthered  the  universal 
evolution  by  a  hair-breadth,  and  passed  away.  The 
material  dust  of  their  bodies  is  laid  long  since  in  the 
Palaeozoic  rocks,  but  their  life  and  labor  are  not 
forgotten.  For  their  gains  were  handed  on  to  a  suc- 
ceeding race.  Transmitted  thence  through  an  endless 
series  of  descendants,  sifted,  enriched,  accentuated, 
still  dimly  recognizable,  they  re-appeared  at  last  in 
the  physical  frame  of  jNIan.  After  the  early  stages  of 
human  development  are  passed,  the  transformations 
become  so  definite  that  the  features  of  the  contrib- 
utory animals  are  almost  recognizable.  Here,  for 
example,  is  a  stage  at  which  the  embryo  in  its  ana- 
tomical characteristics  resembles  that  of  the  Vermes 
or  Worms.  As  yet  there  is  no  head,  nor  neck,  nor 
backbone,  nor  waist,  nor  limbs,  A  roughly  cylindri- 
cal headless  trunk — that  is  all  that  stands  for  the 
future  man.  One  by  one  the  higher  Invertebrates  are 
left  behind,  and  then  occurs  the  most  remarkable 
change  in  the  whole  life-history.  This  is  the  laying 
down  of  the  line  to  be  occupied  by  the  spinal  chord, 
the  presence  of  which  henceforth  will  determine  the 
place  of  Man  in  the  Vertebrate  sub-kingdom.  At  this 
crisis,  the  eye  which  sweeps  the  field  of  lower  Katu-*"© 


THE  ASCENT  OF  THE  BODY.  71 

for  an  analogue  will  readily  find  it.  It  is  a  circum- 
stance of  extraordinary  interest  that  there  should  be 
living-  upon  the  globe  at  this  moment  an  animal 
representing  the  actual  transition  from  Invertebrate 
to  Vertebrate  life.  The  acquisition  of  a  vertebral 
colunni  is  one  of  the  great  marks  of  height  which 
Nature  has  bestowed  upon  her  creatures ;  and  in  the 
shallow  waters  of  the  Mediterranean  she  has  pre- 
served for  us  a  creature  which,  whether  degenerate 
or  not,  can  only  be  likened  to  one  of  her  first  rude 
experiments  in  this  direction.  This  animal  is  the 
Lancelet,  or  Amphioxus,  and  so  rudimentary  is  the 
backbone  that  it  does  not  contain  any  bone  at  all,  but 
only  a  shadow  or  prophecy  of  it  in  cartilage.  The 
cartilaginous  notochord  oi  the  Amphioxus  nevertheless 
is  the  progenitor  of  all  vertebral  columns,  and  in  the 
first  instance  this  structure  appears  in  the  human 
embryo  exactly  as  it  now  exists  in  the  Lancelet.  But 
this  is  only  a  single  example.  In  living  Nature  there 
are  a  hundred  other  animal  characteristics  which  at 
one  stage  or  another  the  biologist  may  discern  in  the 
ever-changing  kaleidoscope  of  the  human  embryo. 

Even  with  this  addition,  nevertheless,  the  human 
infant  is  but  a  first  rough  draft,  an  almost  formless 
Innip  of  clay.  As  yet  there  is  no  distinct  head,  no 
l)rain,  no  jaws,  no  limbs;  the  heart  is  imperfect,  the 
higher  visceral  organs  are  feebly  developed,  every- 
thing is  elementary.  Bat  gradually  new  organs  loom 
in  sight,  old  ones  increase  in  complexity.  By  a  magic 
which  has  never  yet  been  fathomed  the  hidden  Potter 
shapes  and  re-shapes  the  clay.  The  whole  grows  in 
size  and  symm(;try.  Ivesemblances,  this  time,  to 
the  embryos  of  the  lower  vertebrate  series,  flash  out  as 


72  THE  ASCENT  OF  THE  BODY 


each  new  step  is  attained — first  tlie  semblance  of  the 
Fisli,  then  of  the  Anipliibian,  then  of  the  Reptile,  last 
of  the  Mammal.  Of  these  great  groups  the  leading 
embryonic  characters  appear  as  in  a  moving  pano- 
rama, some  of  them  pronounced  and  unmistakable, 
others  mere  sketches,  suggestions,  likenesses  of  infinite 
subtlety.  At  last  the  true  jMammalian  form  emerges 
from  the  crowd.  Far  ahead  of  all  at  this  stage  stand 
out  three  species — the  Tailed  Catarrhine  Ape,  the  Tail- 
less Catarrhine,  and  last,  differing  physically  from 
these  mainly  by  an  enlargement  of  the  brain  and  a 
development  of  the  larynx,  IMan. 

Whatever  views  be  held  of  the  doctrine  of  Evolu- 
tion, whatever  theories  of  its  cause,  these  facts  of 
Embryology  are  proved.  They  have  taken  their  place 
in  science  wholly  apart  from  the  discussion  of  theories 
of  Evolution,  and  as  the  result  of  laboratory  investi- 
gation, made  for  quite  other  ends.  What  is  true  for 
Man,  moreover,  is  true  of  all  other  animals.  Every 
creature  that  lives  climbs  up  its  own  genealogical  tree 
before  it  reaches  its  mature  condition.  "All  animals 
living,  or  that  ever  have  lived,  are  united  together  by 
blood  relationship  of  varying  nearness  or  remoteness, 
and  every  animal  now  in  existence  has  a  pedigree 
stretching  back,  not  merely  for  ten  or  a  hundred 
generations,  but  through  all  geologic  time  since  life 
first  commenced  on  the  earth.  The  study  of  develop- 
ment has  revealed  to  us  that  each  animal  bears  the 
mark  of  its  ancestry,  and  is  compelled  to  discover  its 
pai-entage  in  its  own  development ;  the  phases  through 
which  an  animal  passes  in  its  progress  from  the  egg  to 
the  adult  are  no  accidental  freaks,  no  mere  matters  of 
developmental  convenience,  but  represent  more  or  less 


THE  ASCENT  OF  THE  BODY.  73 


closely,  in  moi-e  or  less  modified  manner,  the  suc- 
cessive ancestral  stages  through  whicli  the  present 
condition  has  been  acquired."  ^  Almost  foreseen  by 
Agassiz,  suggested  by  Von  Baer,  and  finally  applied 
by  Fritz  ^Miiller,  this  singular  law  is  the  key-note  of 
modern  Embryology.  In  no  case,  it  is  true,  is  the 
recapitulation  of  the  past  complete.  Ancestral  stages 
are  constantly  omitted,  otliers  are  over-accentuated, 
condensed,  distorted,  or  confused  ;  wliile  new  and  un- 
decipherable characters  occasionally  appear.  But  it  is 
a  general  scientific  fact,  that  over  the  graves  of  a 
myriad  aspirants  tlie  bodies  of  Man  and  of  all  higher 
Animals  have  lisen.  No  one  knows  why  this  should 
be  so.  Science,  at  present,  has  no  rationale  of  the 
process  adequate  to  explain  it.  It  was  formerly  lield 
that  the  entire  animal  creation  had  contributed  some- 
thing to  the  anatomy  of  Man  ;  or  tliat  as  Serres  ex- 
pressed it,  "  Human  Organogenesis  is  a  transitory 
Comparative  Anatomy."  But  tliough  jNFan  has  not 
such  a  monopoly  of  tlie  })ast  as  is  hei'e  inferred — 
otiier  types  having  here  and  tliere  diverged  and  devel- 
oped along  lines  of  their  own — it  is  certain  that  the 
materials  for  his  body  liave  been  brouglit  togetlier 
from  an  unlcnown  multitude  of  lowlier  forms  of  life. 

Tliose  who  know  the  Cathedral  of  St.  jMark's  will  re- 
member how  this  noblest  of  the  Stones  of  ^'enice  owes 
its  greatness  to  the  patient  hands  of  centuries  and 
centuries  of  workers,  liow  every  quarter  of  the  globe 
has  been  s[)oiIt'd  of  its  treasures  to  dignify  this  single 
shrine.  But  he  v>iio  ponders  over  the  more  ancient 
temple  of  the  Human  Body  will  find  imagination  fail 

^  Marshall,  T'<'rfei'v/-afe  Einbryulu(jii,i>.  2G. 


74  THE  ASCENT  OF  THE  BODY. 

him  as  he  tries  to  think  from  what  remote  and  min- 
gled sources,  from  what  lands,  seas,  chmates,  atmos- 
pheres, its  various  parts  Iiave  been  called  together, 
and  by  what  innumerable  contributory  creatures, 
swimming,  creeping,  flying,  climbing,  each  of  its 
several  members  was  wrought  and  perfected.  What 
ancient  chisel  first  sculptured  the  rounded  columns  of 
the  limbs  ?  Wliat  dead  hands  built  the  cupola  of  the 
brain,  and  from  what  older  ruins  were  the  scattered 
pieces  of  its  mosaic- work  brought  ?  Who  fixed  the 
windows  in  its  upper  walls?  What  winds  and 
weathers  wrought  strength  into  its  buttresses  ?  What 
ocean-beds  and  forest  glades  worked  up  its  colorings? 
"What  Love  and  Terror  and  Night  called  forth  the 
IMusic  ?  And  what  Life  and  Death  and  Pain  and 
Struggle  put  all  together  in  the  noiseless  workshop  of 
the  past,  and  removed  each  worker  silently  when  its 
task  was  done?  How  these  things  came  to  be  Biology 
is  one  long  record.  The  architects  and  builders  of 
this  mighty  temple  are  not  anonymous.  Their  names, 
and  the  work  they  did,  are  graven  forever  on  the  walls 
and  arches  of  the  .Human  Embryo.  For  this  is  a 
volume  of  tliat  Book  in  which  Man's  members  were 
written,  which  in  continuance  were  fashioned,  Avhen  as 
yet  there  was  none  of  them,    i"^.',  '  -29  . 

The  Descent  of  Man  from  the  Animal  Kingdom  is 
sometimes  spoken  of  as  a  degradation.  It  is  an  un- 
speakable exaltation.  Recall  the  vast  antiquity  of 
that  primal  cell  from  wiiicli  the  human  embryo  first 
sets  forth.  Compass  the  nature  of  the  i:)otentialities 
stored  up  in  its  plastic  substance.  Watch  all  the 
busy  processes,  the  multi[)lying  energies,  the  mystify- 
ing transitions,  the  inexplicable  chemistry  of  this  liv- 


THE  ASCENT  OF  TUE  BODY. 


ing  laboratory.  Observe  the  variet)^  and  intricacy  of 
its  metamorphoses,  the  exquisite  gradation  of  its  as- 
cent, the  unerring  aim  witli  which  the  one  type  un- 
folds— never  pausing,  never  uncertain  of  its  direction, 
refusing  ai-rest  at  intermediate  forms,  passing  on  to 
its  flawless  maturity  witliout  waste  or  effort  or 
fatigue.  See  the  sense  of  motion  at  every  turn,  of 
purpose  and  of  aspiration.  Discover  how,  with  iden- 
tity of  process  and  loyalty  to  the  type,  a  hair-breadth 
of  deviation  is  yet  secured  to  each  so  that  no  two 
forms  come  out  the  same,  but  each  arises  an  oi'iginal 
creation,  with  features,  characteristics,  and  individual- 
ities of  its  own.  Remember,  finally,  that  even  to 
make  the  first  cell  possible,  stellar  space  required  to 
be  swept  of  mattei-,  suns  must  needs  be  broken  up, 
and  planets  cool,  the  agents  of  geology  labor  millen- 
nium after  millennium  at  the  unfinished  earth  to  pre- 
pare a  material  resting-place  for  tlie  coming  guest. 
Consider  all  this,  and  judge  if  Creation  could  have  a 
sublimer  meaning,  or  the  Human  Race  possess  a  more 
splendid  genesis. 

From  the  lips  of  the  Prophet  another  version,  an 
old  and  beautiful  story,  was  told  to  the  childhood  of 
the  earth,  of  how  God  made  3Ian  ;  how  with  His  own 
hands  He  gathered  the  Bactrian  dust,  modelled  it, 
breathed  upon  it,  and  it  became  a  living  soul.  Later, 
the  insight  of  the  Hebrew  Poet  taught  Man  a  deeper 
lesson.  He  saw  that  there  Avas  more  in  Creation  than 
mechanical  production.  He  saw  that  the  Creator  had 
different  kinds  of  Hands  and  difterent  Avays  of  model- 
ling. How  it  was  done  he  knew  not,  but  it  Avas  not 
the  surface  tiling  his  forefathers  taught  him.  The 
higher  divinity  and  mystery  of  the  process  broke  upon 


76  THE  ASCENT  OF  THE  BODY. 

him.  Man  was  a  fearful  and  Avonderfnl  thing.  He 
was  modelled  in  secret.  He  was  curiously  wrought  in 
the  lowest  parts  of  the  earth.  When  Science  came,  it 
was  not  to  contradict  the  older  versions.  It  hut  gave 
them  content  and  a  still  richer  meaning.  What  the 
Prophet  said,  and  the  Poet  saw,  and  Science  proved, 
all  and  equally  will  ahide  forever.  For  all  alike  are 
voices  of  the  Unseen,  connnissioned  to  different  peo- 
ples and  for  different  ends  to  declare  the  mystery  of 
the  Ascent  of  i\lan. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  SCAFFOLDING  LEFT  IN  THE  BODY. 

The  spectacle  which  we  have  just  witnessed  is  in- 
visible, and  therefore  more  or  less  unimpressive,  ex- 
cept to  the  man  of  science.  Embryology  works  in  the 
dark.  Requiring  not  only  the  microscope,  but  the 
comparative  knowledge  of  intricate  and  inaccessible 
forms  of  life,  its  all  but  final  contribution  to  the 
theory  of  Evolution  carries  no  adequate  conviction  to 
the  general  mind.  We  must  therefore  follow  the  fort- 
unes of  the  Body  further  into  the  open  day.  If  the 
EmV)ryo  in  every  changing  feature  of  its  growth  con- 
tains some  reminiscence  of  an  animal  ancestry,  the 
succeeding  stages  of  its  development  may  be  trusted 
to  carry  on  the  proof.  And  though  here  the  evidence 
is  neither  so  beautiful  nor  so  exact,  we  shall  find  that 
tliere  is  in  the  adult  frame,  and  even  in  the  very  life 
and  movement  of  the  new-born  babe,  a  continuous 
witness  to  the  ancient  animal  strain. 

\ye  are  met,  unfortunately,  at  the  outset  by  one  of 
those  curious  obstacles  to  inquiry  whicli  have  so  often 
barred  the  way  of  truth  and  turned  discovery  into 
ridicule.  It  happens  that  the  class  of  animals  in 
which  Science,  in  the  very  nature  of  the  case,  is  com- 

77 


78         THE  SCAFFOLDING  LEFT  IN  THE  BODY. 

pelled  to  look  for  the  closest  affinities  to  human  beings 
is  that  of  the  Aj^es.  This  simple  circumstance  has 
told  almost  fatally  against  the  wide  acceptance  of  the 
theory  of  Descent.  There  is  just  as  much  truth  in  the 
sarcasm  that  man  is  a  "  reformed  monkey  "  as  to  pre- 
judge the  question  to  the  unscientific  mind.  But  the 
statement  is  no  nearer  the  truth  itself  than  if  one  were 
to  say  that  a  gun  is  an  adult  form  of  the  pistol.  The 
connection,  if  any,  between  Man  and  Ape  is  simply 
that  the  most  Man-like  thing  in  creation  is  the  Ape, 
and  that,  in  his  Ascent,  Man  probably  passed  through 
a  stage  when  he  more  nearly  resembled  the  Ape  than 
any  other  known  animal.  Apart  from  that  accident, 
Evolution  owes  no  more  to  the  Ape  than  to  any  other 
creature.  Man  and  Ape  are  alike  in  being  two  of  the 
hitest  terms  of  an  hifinite  series,  each  member  of 
which  has  had  a  share  in  making  up  the  genealogical 
tree.  To  single  out  the  Ape,  therefore,  and  use  the 
hypothetical  relationship  for  rhetorical  purposes  is,  to 
say  the  least,  unscientiflc.  It  is  certainly  the  fact 
that  Man  is  not  descended  from  any  existing  Ape. 
The  Anthropoid  Apes  branched  off  laterally  at  a 
vastly  remote  period  from  the  nearest  human  progen- 
itors. The  challenge  even  to  produce  links  between 
Man  and.  the  living  man-like  Apes  is  difficult  to  take 
f;eriously.  Should  any  one  so  violate  the  first  princi- 
ples of  Evolution  as  to  make  it,  it  is  only  to  be  said 
that  it  cannot  be  met.  For  an  Anthropoid  Ape  could 
as  little  develop  into  a  Man  as  could  a  Man  pass  back- 
wards into  an  Anthropoid  Ape.  licferences  to  a  Sim- 
ian stem  play  no  necessary  part  in  the  story  of  the 
Ascent  of  Man.  In  those  pages  the  compromising 
name  will  scarcely  occur.     If  historical  sequence  com- 


THE  SCAFFOLDING  LEFT  IN  THE  BODY.         79 

pels  lis  to  make  an  apparent  exception  here  at  the 
very  outset,  it  Avill  be  seen  tliat  tlie  alhision  is  harm- 
less. For  the  analogy  we  are  about  to  make  might 
Avith  equal  relevancy  have  been  draAvn  from  a  squirrel 
or  a  sloth. 

On  the  theory  that  human  beings  were  once  allied 
in  habit  as  Avell  as  in  body  with  some  of  the  Apes,  that 
they  probably  lived  in  trees,  and  that  baby-men  clung 
to  their  climbing  mothers  as  baby-monkeys  do  to-day 
Dr.  Louis  Robinson  prophesied  that  a  baby's  powei'  of 
grip  might  be  found  to  be  comparable  in  strength  to 
that  of  a  young  monkey  at  the  same  i)eriod  of  develop- 
ment. Having  special  facilities  for  such  an  investiga- 
tion, he  tested  a  large  number  of  just-born  infants 
with  reference  to  this  particular.  Now  although  most 
people  have  some  time  or  other  been  seized  in  the 
awful  grasp  of  a  baby,  few  have  any  idea  of  the  abnor- 
mal power  locked  up  in  the  tentacles  of  this  human 
octopus.  Dr.  Robinson's  method  was  to  extend  to 
infants,  generally  of  one  hour  old,  his  finger,  or  a 
walking  stick,  to  imitate  the  branch  of  a  tree,  and  see 
how  long  they  would  hang  there  without,  what  the 
newspapers  call,  "any  other  visible  means  of  support." 
The  results  are  startling.  Dr.  Robinson  has  records 
of  upwards  of  sixty  cases  in  which  the  children  Avere 
under  a  month  old,  and  in  at  least  half  of  these  the  ex- 
periment was  tried  Avithin  an  hour  of  birth  :  "In  every 
instance,  Avith  only  two  exceptions,  the  cliild  Avas  able 
to  hang  on  to  the  finger  or  a  small  stick,  three- 
quarters  of  an  inch  in  diameter,  by  its  hands,  like  an. 
acrobat  from  a  horizontal  bar,  and  sustain  the  Avhole 
Aveight  of  its  body  for  at  least  ten  seconds.  In  t\\x'lve 
cases,  in   infants   under   an  hour  old,  half  a   minute 


80         THE  SCAFFOLDING  LEFT  IN  THE  BODY. 

passed  before  the  grasp  relaxed,  and  in  three  or  four 
nearly  a  minute.  When  about  four  days  old,  I  found 
tiiat  the  strength  had  increased,  and  that  nearly  all, 
when  tried  at  this  age,  could  sustain  their  weight  for 
half  a  minute.  About  a  fortnight  or  three  weeks  after 
birth  the  faculty  appeared  to  have  attained  its  maxi- 
nunn,  for  several  at  this  period  succeeded  in  hanging 
for  over  a  minute  and  a  half,  two  for  just  over  two 
minutes,  and  one  infant  of  three  weeks  old  for  two 
minutes  thirty-five  seconds.  ...  In  one  instance,  in 
which  the  performer  had  less  than  one  hour's  expe- 
rience of  life,  he  hung  by  both  hands  to  my  forefinger 
for  ten  seconds,  and  then  deliberately  let  go  with  his 
right  hand  (as  if  to  seek  a  better  hold),  and  main- 
tained his  position  for  five  seconds  more  by  the  left 
hand  only.  Invariably  the  thighs  are  bent  nearly  at 
right  angles  to  the  body,  and  in  no  case  did  the  lower 
limbs  hang  down  and  take  the  attitude  of  the  erect 
position.  This  attitude,  and  the  disproportionately 
large  development  of  the  arms  compai'ed  with  the  legs, 
give  the  photographs  a  striking  resemblance  to  a  well- 
known  picture  of  the  celebrated  Chimpanzee  Sally  at 
the  Zoological  Garden.  I  think  it  will  be  acknowl- 
edged that  the  remarkable  strength  shown  in  the 
flexor  muscle  of  the  fore-arm  in  these  young  infants, 
especially  when  compared  with  the  flaccid  and  feeble 
state  of  the  muscular  system  generally,  is  a  suffi- 
ciently striking  phenomenon  to  provoke  inquiry  as  to 
its  cause  and  origin.  The  fact  that  a  three-week  old 
baby  can  perform  a  feat  of  nmscular  strength  that 
would  tax  the  powers  of  many  a  healthy  adult 
is  enough  to  set  one  wondering.  A  curious  point  is 
that  in  many   cases  no    sign  of  distress    is  evident, 


THE  SCAFFOLDING  LEFT  IN  THE  BODY.         81 

and  no  cry  uttered  until  the  grasp  begins  to  give 
way."  ^ 

Place  side  by  side  with  this  the  following  account, 
which  Mr.  Wallace  gives  us  in  his  3[((l<ii/  Archipelago^ 
of  a  baby  Orang-outang,  whose  mother  he  happened 
to  shoot  : 

"  This  little  creature  was  only  about  a  foot  long, 
and  had,  evidently  been  hanging  to  its  mother  when 
she  first  fell.  Luckily  it  did  not  appear  to  have  been 
wounded,  and  after  we  had  cleaned  the  mud  out  of  its 
mouth  it  began  to  cry  out,  and  seemed  quite  strong 
and  active.  While  carrying  it  home  it  got  its  hands 
in  my  beard,  and  grasped  so  tightly  that  I  had  great 
difficulty  in  getting  free,  for  the  fingers  are  habitually 
bent  inward  at  the  last  joint  so  as  to  form  complete 
hooks.  For  the  first  few  days  it  clung  desperately 
with  all  four  hands  to  whatever  it  could  lay  hold  of, 
and  I  had  to  be  careful  to  keep  my  beard  out  of  its 
way,  as  its  fingers  clutched  hold  of  hair  more  tena- 
ciously than  anything  else,  and  it  was  impossible  to 
free  myself  without  assistance.  When  restless,  it 
would  struggle  about  with  its  hands  up  in  the  air  try- 
ing to  find  something  to  take  hold  of,  and  when  it  had 
got  a  bit  of  stick  or  rag  in  two  or  three  of  its  hands, 
seeriied  quite  happy.  For  want  of  something  else,  it 
would  often  seize  its'  own  feet,  and  after  a  time  it 
would  constantly  cross  its  arms  and  grasp  with  each 
hand  the  long  hair  that  grew  just  below  the  o[)p()sitG 
shoulder.  The  great  tenacity  of  its  grasp  soon  (lin)in- 
ished,  and  I  was  obliged  to  invent  some  means  to  give 
it  exercise  and  strengthen  its  limbs.     For  this  pui'pose 

1  NhiPtrrnlli  Cputiiri/,  Xovnnbcr,  ISOl. 


82         THE  SCAFFOLDING  LEFT  IN  THE  BODY. 

I  made  a  short  ladder  of  three  or  four  rounds,  on 
which  I  put  it  to  hang  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour  at  a 
time.  At  first  it  seemed  much  pleased,  but  it  could 
not  get  all  four  hands  in  a  comfortable  position,  and, 
after  changing  about  several  times,  would  leave  hold 
of  one  hand  after  the  other  and  drop  on  to  the  floor. 
Sometimes  when  hanging  only  by  two  hands,  it  would 
loose  one,  and  cross  it  to  the  opposite  shoulder,  grasp- 
ing its  own  hair ;  and,  as  this  seemed  much  more 
agreeable  than  the  stick,  it  would  then  loose  the  other 
and  tumble  down,  Avhen  it  would  cross  both  and  lie 
on  its  back  quite  contentedly,  never  seeming  to  be 
hurt  by  its  numerous  tumbles.  Finding  it  so  fond 
of  hair,  I  endeavored  to  make  an  artificial  mother,  by 
wrapping  up  a  piece  of  buffalo-skin  into  a  bundle,  and 
suspending  it  about  a  foot  from  the  floor.  At  first 
this  seemed  to  suit  it  admirably,  as  it  could  sprawl 
its  legs  about  and  always  find  some  hair,  which  it 
grasped  with  the  greatest  tenacity."  ^ 

Whatever  the  value  of  these  facts  as  evidence,  they 
form  an  interesting  if  slight  introduction  to  the  part 
of  the  subject  that  lies  before  us.  For  we  have  now 
to  explore  the  Body  itself  for  actual  betrayals — not 
mere  external  movements  which  miglit  have  come  as 
well  from  early  Man  as  from  later  animal ;  but  ver- 
itable physical  survivals,  the  material  scaffolding 
itself — of  the  animal  past.  And  the  facts  here  are  as 
numerous  and  as  easily  grasped  as  they  are  authentic. 
As  the  traveller,  wandering  in  foreign  lands,  brings 
back  all  manner  of  curios  to  remind  him  where  he  has 
been — clubs   and    spears,  clothes  and   pottery,  which 

^  Malay  Archipelayo,  53-5. 


THE  SCAFFOLDING  LEFT  IN   THE  BODY.        83 

represent  the  ways  of  life  of  those  whom  he  has  met — 
so  the  body  of  Man,  emerging  from  its  age-long  jour- 
ney through  the  animal  kingdom,  appears  laden  with 
the  spoils  of  its  distant  pilgrimage.  These  relics  are 
not  mere  curiosities  ;  they  are  as  real  as  the  clubs  and 
spears,  the  clothes  and  pottery.  Like  them,  they  were 
once  a  part  of  life's  vicissitude  ;  they  represent  organs 
which  have  been  outgrown  ;  old  forms  of  apparatus 
long  since  exchanged  for  better,  yet  somehow  not  yet 
destroyed  by  the  hand  of  time.  The  physical  body  of 
Man,  so  great  is  the  number  of  these  relics,  is  an  old 
curiosity  shop,  a  museum  of  obsolete  anatomies,  dis- 
carded tools,  outgrown  and  aborted  organs.  All  other 
animals  also  contain  among  their  useful  organs  a 
proportion  which  are  long  past  their  work  ;  and  so 
significant  are  these  rudiments  of  a  former  state  of 
things,  that  anatomists  have  often  expressed  their 
willingness  to  stake  the  theory  of  Evolution  upon  their 
presence  alone. 

Prominent  among  these  vestigial  structures,  as  they 
are  called,  are  those  which  smack  of  the  sea.  If  Em- 
bryology is  any  guide  to  the  past,  nothing  is  more 
certain  than  that  the  ancient  progenitors  of  Man  once 
lived  an  aquatic  life.  At  one  time  there  was  nothing 
else  in  the  world  but  water-life  ;  all  the  land  animals 
are  late  inventions.  One  reason  why  animals  began 
in  the  water  is  that  it  is  easier  to  live  in  the  water- 
anatomically  and  physiologically  cheaper — than  to  live 
on  the  land.  The  denser  element  supports  the  body 
better,  demanding  a  less  supply  of  muscle  and  bone ; 
and  the  perpetual  motion  of  the  sea  brings  the  food  to 
the  animal,  making  it  unnecessary  for  the  animnl  to 
move  to  the  food.     This  and  other  correlated  circum- 


84         THE  SCAFFOLDING  LEFT  IN  THE  BODY. 

stances  calls  for  far  less  mechanism  in  the  body,  and, 
as  a  matter  of  fact,  all  the  simplest  forms  of  life  at 
the  present  day  are  inhabitants  of  the  water. 

A  successfnl  attempt  at  coming  ashore  may  be  seen 
in  the  connnon  worm.  The  worm  is  still  so  unac- 
climatized  to  land  life  that  instead  of  living  on  the 
earth  like  otlier  creatures,  it  lives  in  it,  as  if  it  were 
a  thicker  water,  and  always  where  there  is  enough 
moisture  to  keep  up  the  traditions  of  its  past.  Prob- 
ably it  took  to  the  shore  originally  i)y  exchanging, 
first  the  water  for  the  ooze  at  the  bottom,  then  by 
wriggling  among  muddy  flats  when  the  tide  was  out, 
and  finally,  as  the  struggle  for  life  grew  keen,  it 
pushed  further  and  further  inland,  continuing  its 
migration  so  long  as  dampness  was  to  be  found. 

More  striking  examples  are  found  among  the  mol- 
luscs, the  sea-iaring  animals  j9ar  excellence  of  the  past. 
A  snaii  wandering  over  the  earth  with  a  sea-shell  on 
its  back  is  one  of  the  most  anomalous  sights  in  nature 
— as  preposterous  as  the  spectacle  of  a  Red  Indian 
perambulating  Paris  with  a  birch  canoe  on  his  head. 
The  snail  not  only  carries  this  relic  of  the  sea  every- 
where with  it,  but  Avhen  it  cannot  get  moisture  to 
remind  it  of  its  ancient  habitat,  it  actually  manufact- 
ures it.  That  tlie  creature  itself  has  discovered  the 
anomaly  of  its  shell  is  obvious,  for  in  almost  every 
class  its  state  of  dilapidation  betrays  that  its  up-keep 
is  no  longer  an  object  of  much  importance.  In  nearly 
every  species  the  stony  houses  have  already  lost  their 
doors,  and  most  have  their  shells  so  reduced  in  size 
that  not  half  of  the  body  can  get  in.  The  degenera- 
tion in  their  cousins,  the  slugs,  is  even  moie  pathetic. 
All  that  remains  of  the  ancestral  home  in   the  highest 


THE  SCAFFOLDIXa  LEFT  IX  THE  BODY.  85 


ranks  is  a  limpet-like  cap  on  the  tip  of  the  tail;  the 
lowest  are  sans  everything;  and  in  the  intermediate 
forms  the  former  glory  is  ironically  suggested  by  a 
few  grains  of  sand  or  a  tiny  shield  so  buried  beneath 
the  skin  that  oidy  the  naturalist's  eye  can  see  it. 

When  Man  left  the  water,  however — or  what  was  to 
develop  into  JNfan — he  took  very  much  more  ashore 
with  him  than  a  shell.  Instead  of  crawling  ashore  at 
the  worm  stage,  he  remained  in  the  water  until  he 
evolved  into  something  like  a  fish ;  so  that  when, 
after  an  amphibian  interlude,  he  finally  left  it,  many 
"  ancient  and  fish-like "  characters  remained  in  his 
body  to  tell  the  tale.  The  chief  characteristic  of  a 
fish  is  its  apparatus  for  breathing  the  air  dissolved  in 
the  water.  This  consists  of  gills — delicate  curtains 
hung  on  strong  arches  and  dyed  scarlet  with  the  blood 
which  continually  courses  through  them.  In  many 
fishes  these  arches  are  five  or  seven  in  number,  and 
communicating  with  them — in  order  to  allow  the 
aerated  water,  which  has  been  taken  in  at  the  mouth, 
to  pass  out  again  after  bathing  the  gills — an  equal 
number  of  slits  or  openings  is  provided  in  the  neck. 
Sometimes  the  slits  are  bare  and  open  so  that  they  are 
easily  seen  on  the  fish's  neck — any  one  who  looks  at  a 
shark  will  see  them — but  in  modern  forms  they  are 
generally  covered  by  the  operculum  or  lid.  Without 
these  holes  in  their  neck  all  fishes  would  instantly 
perish,  and  we  may  be  sure  Nature  took  exceptional 
care  in  perfecting  this  particular  piece  of  the 
mechanism. 

NoAV  it  is  one  of  the  most  extraordinary  facts  in 
natural  history  that  these  slits  in  the  fish's  neck  are 
still   represented   in    the  neck  of  Man.     Almost  the 


8(»         IJIE  .SCAFF()1J)IN(;  LEFT  IN  THE  BODY. 


most  pvoniiuent  feature,  indeed,  after  the  head,  in 
^very  nian:iuialian  embryo,  are  the  four  clefts  or  fur- 
rows of  the  old  gill-slits.  They  are  still  known  in 
Embryology  by  the  old  name — gill-slits — and  so  per- 
sistent are  those  characters  that  children  are  known 
to  have  been  born  with  them  not  only  externally 
visible — whic)i  is  a  common  occurrence — but  open 
through  and  chrough,  so  that  fluids  taken  in  at  the 
mouth  could  pass  through  and  trickle  out  at  the  neck. 
This  last  fact  was  so  astounding  as  to  be  for  a  long 
time  denieu.  It  was  thought  that,  when  this  hap- 
pened, the  orifice  must  have  been  accidentally  made 
by  the  probe  of  the  surgeon.  But  Dr.  Sutton  has 
recently  met  with  actual  cases  where  this  has 
occurred.  "I  have  seen  milk,"  he  says,  "issue  from 
such  fistulse  in  individuals  who  have  never  been 
submitted  to  sounding."  ^  In  the  common  case  of 
children  born  with  these  vestiges,  the  old  gill-slits  are 
represented  by  small  openings  in  the  skin  on  the  sides 
of  the  neck,  and  capable  of  admitting  a  thin  probe. 
Sometimes  even  the  place  where  they  have  been  in 
childhood  is  marked  throughout  life  by  small  round 
patches  of  white  skin. 

Almost  more  astonishing  than  the  fact  of  their 
persistence  is  the  use  to  which  Nature  afterwards  ])ut 
them.  When  the  fish  came  ashore,  its  water-breath- 
ing apparatus  was  no  longer  of  any  use  to  it.  At  first 
it  had  to  keep  it  on,  for  it  took  a  long  time  to  perfect 
the  air-breathing  apparatus  destined  to  replace  it. 
But  when  this  was  ready  the  problem  arose,  What 
was   to  be  done  with  the  earlier  organ  ?    Nature  is 

^  Evolution  and  Disease,  p.   81. 


THE  SCAFFOLDING  LEFT  IN  THE  BODY.  87 

exceedingly  economical,  and  could  not  throw  all  this 
mechanism  away.  In  fact,  Nature  almost  never  parts 
with  any  structure  she  has  once  made.  What  she 
does  is  to  change  it  into  something  else.  Conversely, 
Nature  seldom  makes  anything  new;  her  method 
of  creation  is  to  adapt  something  old.  Now,  when 
Nature  had  done  with  the  old  breathing-apparatus, 
slie  proceeded  to  adapt  it  for  a  new  and  important 
purpose.  She  saw  that  if  water  could  pass  through 
a  hole  in  the  neck,  air  could  pass  through  likewise. 
But  it  was  no  longer  necessary  that  air  should  pass 
through  for  purposes  of  breathing,  for  that  was 
already  provided  for  l)y  the  mouth.  Was  there  any 
other  j)urpose  for  which  it  was  desirable  that  air 
should  enter  the  body  ?  There  was,  and  a  very  subtle 
one.'^  For  Iiearing.  Sound  is  the  result  of  a  wave- 
motion  conducted  by  many  things,  but  in  a  special 
way  by  air.  To  leave  holes  in  the  head  M'as  to  let 
sound  into  the  head.  The  mouth  might  have  done  for 
this,  but  the  mouth  had  enough  to  do  as  it  was,  and, 
moreover,  it  must  often  be  shut.  In  the  old  days, 
certainly,  sound  was  conveyed  to  fishes  in  a  dull  way 
without  any  definite  opening.  But  animals  which 
live  in  water  do  not  seem  to  use  hearing  much,  and 
the  sound-waves  in  fishes  are  simply  conveyed 
through  the  walls  of  the  head  to  the  internal  ear  with- 
out any  definite  mechanism.  But  as  soon  as  land-life 
began,  owing  to  the  changed  medium  through  which 
sound-waves  must  now  be  propagated,  and  the  new 
uses  for  sound  itself,  a  more  delicate  instrument  was 
required.  And  hence  one  of  the  first  things  attended 
to  as  the  evolution  went  on  was  the  construction  and 
improvement  of  the  ear.     And  this  seems  to  have  been 


88         THE  SCAFFOLDING  LEFT  IX  TUE  BODY. 

mainly  effected   by    a  series   of   remarkable   develop- 
ments of  one  of  the  now  snperfluous  gill-slits. 

It  has  long  been  a  growing  certainty  to  Comparative 
Anatomy  that  the  external  and  middle  ear  in  Man  are 
simply  a  development,  an  improved  edition,  of  the 
first  gill-cleft  and  its  surrounding  parts.  The  tym- 
pano-Eustachian  passage  is  the  homologue  or  counter- 
part of  the  spiracle  associated  in  the  shark  with  the 
first  gill-opening.  Prof.  His  of  Leipsic  has  worked 
out  the  whole  development  in  minute  detail,  and  con- 
clusively demonstrated  the  mode  of  oi-igin  of  the 
external  ear  from  the  coalescence  of  six  rounded 
tubercles  surrounding  the  first  branchial  cleft  at  an 
early  period  of  embryonic  life.^ 


1  Ilaeckel  has  given  an  earlier  account  of  the  process  in  the 
following  words  : — "  All  the  essential  parts  of  the  middle  ear — the 
tympanic  membrane,  tj-mpanic  cavity,  and  Eustachian  tube — 
develop  from  the  first  gill-opening  with  its  surrounding  parts, 
which  in  the  Primitive  Fishes  (Selachii)  remains  throughout  life 
as  an  open  blow-hole,  situated  between  the  first  and  second  gill- 
arches.  In  the  embryos  of  higher  Vertebrates  it  closes  in  the 
centre,  the  point  of  concrescence  forming  the  tympanic  mem- 
brane. The  remaining  outer  part  of  the  first  gill-opening  is  the 
rudiment  of  the  outer  ear-canal.  From  the  inner  part  originates 
the  tympanic  cavity,  and  further  inward,  the  Eustachian  tube. 
In  connection  with  these,  the  three  bonelets  of  the  ear  develop 
from  the  first  two  gill-arches  ;  the  hammer  and  anvil  from  the 
first,  and  the  stirrup  from  the  upper  end  of  the  second  gill-arch. 
Finally,  as  regards  the  external  ear,  the  ear-shell  (concha  auris), 
and  the  outer  ear  canal,  leading  from  the  shell  to  the  tympanic 
membrane — these  parts  develop  in  the  simplest  way  from  the  skin 
covering  which  borders  the  outer  orifice  of  the  first  gill-opening. 
At  this  point  the  ear-shell  rises  in  the  form  of  a  circular  fold  of 
skin,  in  which  cartilage  and  muscles  afterwards  form.'' — Ilaeckel, 
Efolutioii  of  Man,  Vol.  ii.,  p.  2()!). 


THE  SCAFFOLDING  LEFT  IN  THE  BODY.  89 


Now,  bearing  in  mind  tliis  theory  of  the  origin 
of  ears,  an  extraordinary  corrolioration  confronts  us. 
Ears  are  actually  sometimes  found  bursting-  out  in 
hmiian  hehujs  half-way  down  the  neck,  in  the  exact 
position — namely,  along  the  line  of  the  anterior 
boi'der  of  the  sterno-mastoid  muscle — whicli  the 
gill-slits  Avould  occupy  if  they  still  persisted.  In 
some  human  families,  where  the  tendency  to  retain 
these  special  structures  is  strong,  one  member 
sometimes  illustrates  the  abnormality  by  possessing 
the  clefts  alone,  another  has  a  cervical  ear,  while  a 
third  has  both  a  cleft  and  a  neck-ear — all  these, 
of  course,  in  addition  to  the  ordinary  ears.  This 
cervical  auricle  has  all  the  characters  of  the 
ordinary  ear,  "  it  contains  yellow  elastic  cartilage, 
is  skin-covered,  and  has  muscle-fibre  attached  to 
it."  ^  Dr.  Sutton  calls  attention  to  the  fact  that  on 
ancient  statues  of  fauns  and  satyrs  cervical  auricles 
are  sometimes  found,  and  he  figures  the  head  of  a 
satyr  from  the  British  Museum,  carved  long  before 
the  days  of  anatomy,  where  a  sessile  ear  on  the  neck 
is  quite  distinct.  A  still  better  illustration  may  be 
seen  in  the  Art  Museum  at  Boston  on  a  full-sized 
cast  of  a  faun,  belonging  to  the  later  Greek  period  ; 
and  there  are  other  examples  in  the  same  building. 
One  interest  of  these  neck-ears  in  statues  is  that  they 
are  not,  as  a  rule,  modelled  after  the  human  ear,  but 
taken  from  the  cervical  ear  of  the  goat,  from  which 
the  general  idea  of  the  faun  was  derived.  This  shows 
that  neck-ears  were  common  on  the  goats  of  that 
period — as  they  are  on  goats  to  this  day.     The  occur- 

1  Sutton,  Etolutiun  and  Disease,  p.  87. 


90         THE  ,scAFFOLl)INa  LEFT  IN  THE  BODY. 

rence  of  neck-ears  in  gloats  is  no  more  tlian  one  would 
expect.  Indeed,  one  would  look  for  them  not  only  in 
goats  and  in  Man,  but  in  all  the  Mammalia,  for  so  far 
as  their  bodies  are  concerned  all  the  higher  animals  are 
near  relations.  Observations  on  vestigial  structures 
in  animals  are  sadly  wanting  ;  but  these  cervical  ears 
are  also  certainly  found  in  the  horse,  pig,  sheep,  and 
others. 

That  the  human  ear  was  not  always  the  squat  and 
degenerate  instrument  it  is  at  present  may  be  seen  by 
a  critical  glance  at  its  structure.  Mr.  Darwin  records 
liow  a  celebrated  sculptor  called  his  attention  to  a  lit- 
tle peculiarity  in  the  external  ear,  which  he  had  often 
noticed  both  in  men  and  women.  "  The  peculiarity 
consists  in  a  little  blunt  point,  projecting  from  the 
inwardly  folded  margin  or  helix.  When  present,  it  is 
developed  at  birth,  and,  according  to  Professor  Ludwig 
Meyer,  more  frequently  in  man  than  in  woman.  The 
helix  obviously  consists  of  the  extreme  margin  of  the 
ear  folded  inwards  ;  and  the  folding  appears  to  be  in 
some  manner  connected  with  the  whole  external  ear 
being  permanently  pressed  backwards.  In  many 
monkeys  who  do  not  stand  high  in  the  order,  as 
baboons  and  some  species  of  macacus,  the  upper  por- 
tion of  the  ear  is  slightly  pointed,  and  the  margin 
is  not  at  all  folded  inwards ;  but  if  the  margin  were  to 
be  thus  folded,  a  slight  point  would  necessarily  project 
towards  the  centre."  ^  Here,  then,  in  this  discover}^  of 
the  lost  tip  of  the  ancestral  ear,  is  further  and  visible 
advertisement  of  Man's  Descent,  a  surviving  symbol  of 
the  stirring  times  and  dangerous  days  of  his  animal 

^  Descent  of  Man,  p.  15, 


THE  SCAFFOLDING  LEFT  L\  THE  BODY.  91 

youth.  It  is  difficult  to  imagine  any  other  theory  than 
that  of  Descent  which  could  account  for  all  these  facts. 
That  Evolution  should  leave  such  clues  lying  about  is 
at  least  an  instance  of  its  candor. 

But  this  does  not  exhaust  the  betrayals  of  this  most 
confiding  organ.  If  we  turn  from  the  outward  ear  to 
the  muscular  apparatus  for  working  it,  fresh  traces  of 
its  animal  career  ai'e  brought  to  light.  The  erection 
of  the  ear,  in  order  to  catch  sound  better,  is  a  power 
possessed  by  almost  all  mammals,  and  the  attached 
muscles  are  large  and  greatly  developed  in  all  but 
domesticated  forms.  This  same  apparatus,  though  he 
makes  no  use  of  it  whatever,  is  still  attached  to  the 
eai's  of  Man.  It  is  so  long  since  he  relied  on  the  warn- 
ings of  hearing,  that  by  a  well-known  law,  the  mus- 
cles have  fallen  into  disuse  and  atrophied.  In  many 
cases,  however,  the  power  of  twitching  the  ear  is  not 
wholly  lost,  and  every  school-boy  can  point  to  some 
one  in  his  class  who  retains  the  capacity,  and  is  apt  to 
revive  it  in  irrelevant  circumstances. 

One  might  run  over  all  the  other  organs  of  the 
human  body  and  show  their  affinities  with  animal 
structures  and  an  animal  past.  The  twitching  of  the 
ear,  for  instance,  suggests  another  obsolete,  or  obso- 
lescent power — the  power,  or  rather  the  set  of  powers, 
for  twitching  the  skin,  especially  the  skin  of  the  scalp 
and  forehead  by  which  we  raise  the  eyebrows.  Sub- 
cutaneous muscles  for  shaking  off  flies  from  the  skin, 
or  for  erecting  the  hair  of  the  scalp,  are  common 
among  quadrujieds,  and  these  are  represented  in  the 
human  subject  by  the  still  functioning  nuiscles  of  the 
forehead,  and  occasionally  of  the  head  itself.  Every 
one  has  met  persons  who  possess  the  power  of  moving 


9-2         THE  SCAFFOLDiya  LEFT  IN  THE  BODY 


the  whole  scalp  to  and  fro,  and  the  muscular  apparatus 
for  effecthig  it  is  identical  with  what  is  normally  found 
in  some  of  the  Quadruniana. 

Another  typical  vestigial  structure  is  the  2''^^c<^ 
senn-lwtaris,  the  remnant  of  the  nictitating  mem- 
brane characteristic  of  nearly  the  whole  vertebrate 
sub-kingdom.  This  membi'ane  is  a  semi-transparent 
curtain  which  can  be  drawn  rapidly  across  the  ex- 
ternal surface  of  the  eye  for  the  purpose  of  sweeping 
it  clean.  In  birds  it  is  extremely  common,  but  it  also 
exists  in  fish,  mannnals,  and  all  the  other  vei'tebrates. 
Where  it  is  not  found  of  any  functional  value  it  is 
almost  always  represented  by  vestiges  of  some  kind. 
In  Man  all  that  is  left  of  it  is  a  little  piece  of  the 
curtain  draped  at  the  side  of  the  eye. 

Passing  from  the  head  to  the  other  extremity  of  the 
body   one   comes   upon  a   somewhat  unexpected   but 
^  very  pronounced  characteristic — the  relic  of  the  tail, 

y  and  not  only  of  the  tail,  but  of  muscles  for  wagging  it. 

Every  one  who  first  sees  a  human  skeleton  is  amazed 
at  this  discovery.  At  the  end  of  the  vertebral  column, 
curling  faintly  outward  in  suggestive  fashion,  are 
three,  four,  and  occasionally  five  vertebrae  forming  the 
coccyx,  a  true  rudimentary  tail.  In  the  adult  this  is 
always  concealed  beneath  the  skin,  but  in  the  embryo, 
both  in  Man  and  ape,  at  an  early  stage  it  is  much 
longer  than  the  limbs.  What  is  decisive  as  to  its  true 
nature,  however,  is  that  even  in  the  embryo  of  Man 
the  muscles  for  wagging  it  are  still  found.  In  the 
grown-up  human  being  these  muscles  are  represented 
by  bands  of  fibrous  tissue,  but  cases  are  known  where 
the  actual  muscles  persist  through  life.  That  a  dis- 
tinct external  tail  should  not  still  be  found  in  Man 


THE  SCAFFOLDING  LEFT  IN  THE  BODY.  93 

may  seem  disappointing  to  the  evolntionist.  But  the 
want  of  a  tail  ai'gues  more  for  the  tlieory  of  Evolution 
than  its  presence  would  have  done.  For  all  the 
anthropoids  most  allied  to  Man  have  long  since  also 
parted  with  theirs. 

With  regard  to  the  presence  of  Hair  on  the  body, 
and  its  disposition  and  direction,  some  curious  facts 
may  be  noticed.  No  one,  until  Evolution  supplied  the 
impulse  to  a  fresh  study  of  the  commonplace,  thought 
it  worth  while  to  study  such  trifles  as  the  presence  of 
hair  on  the  fingers  and  hands,  and  the  slope  of  the 
hair  on  the  arms.  But  now  that  attention  is  called  to 
it,  every  detail  is  seen  to  be  full  of  meaning.  In  all 
men  tiie  rudimentary  hair  on  the  arm,  from  the  wrist 
to  the  elbow,  points  one  way,  from  the  elbow  to  the 
shoulder  it  points  the  opposite  way.  In  the  first  case 
it  points  upwards  from  the  wrist  towards  the  elbow, 
in  the  other  downwards  from  the  shoulder  to  the 
elbow.  This  occurs  nowhere  else  in  the  animal  king- 
dom, except  among  the  anthropoid  apes  and  a  few 
American  monkeys,  and  has  to  do  with  the  arboreal 
habit.  As  Mr.  Romanes,  who  has  pointed  this  out, 
explains  it,  "  When  sitting  on  trees,  the  Orang,  as 
observed  by  Wallace,  places  its  hands  above  its  head 
with  its  elbows  pointing  downwards ;  the  disposition 
of  hair  on  the  arras  and  fore-arms  then  has  the  effect 
of  thatch  in  turning  the  rain.  Again,  I  find  that  in 
all  species  of  apes,  monkeys,  and  baboons  which  I 
have  examined  (and  they  have  been  numerous),  the 
hair  on  the  back  of  the  hands  and  feet  is  continued  as 
far  as  the  first  row  of  phalanges  ;  but  becomes  scanty, 
or  disappears  altogether,  on  the  second  row.  I  also 
find  that  the  same  peculiarity  occurs  in  man.     We 


94         THE  SCAFFOLDING  LEFT  IN  THE  BODY. 

have  all  rudimentary  hair  on  the  first  row  of  pha- 
langes, both  of  hands  and  feet ;  wlien  present  at  all,  it 
is  more  scanty  on  the  second  row :  and  in  no  case 
have  I  been  able  to  find  any  on  the  terminal  row.  In 
all  cases  those  peculiarities  are  congenital,  and  the 
total  absence  or  partial  presence  of  hair  on  the  second 
phalanges  is  constant  in  different  species  of  Quad- 
rumana.  .  .  .  The  downward  direction  of  the  hair  on 
the  backs  of  the  hands  is  exactly  the  same  in  man  as 
it  is  in  all  the  anthropoid  apes.  Again,  with  regard 
to  hair,  Darwin  notices  that  occasionally  there  appear 
in  man  a  few  hairs  in  the  eyebrows  much  longer  than 
the  others  ;  and  that  they  seem  to  be  a  representation 
of  similarly  long  and  scattered  hairs  "which  occur  in 
the  chimpanzee,  macacus,  and  baboon.  Lastly,  about 
the  sixth  month  the  human  foetus  is  often  thickly 
covered  with  somewhat  long  dark  hair  over  the  entire 
body,,  except  the  soles  of  the  feet  and  palms  of  the 
hand,  which  are  likewise  bare  in  all  quadrumanous 
animals.  This  covering,  which  is  called  the  lanugo, 
and  sometimes  extends  even  to  the  Avhole  forehead, 
ears,  and  face,  is  shed  before  birth.  So  that  it 
appears  to  be  useless  for  any  purpose  other  than  that 
of  emphatically  declaring  man  a  child  of  the 
monkey."^  The  uselessness  of  these  relics,  sipart  from 
the  remarkable  and  detailed  nature  of  the  homolo- 
gies just  brought  out,  is  a  circumstance  very  hard 
to  get  over  on  any  other  hypothesis  than  that  of 
Descent. 

Caution,  of  course,  is  required  in  deciding  as  to  the 
inutility  of  any  character  since  its  seeming  uselessness 

^  Darifiii  and  After  Darwin,  pp.  89-92. 


THE  SCAFFOLDING  LEFT  IN  THE  BODY.  95 

may  only  mean  that  we  do  not  know  its  use.  But 
there  are  undoubtedly  cases  where  we  know  tliat  cer- 
tain vestigial  structures  are  not  only  useless  to  Man 
but  worse  than  useless.  Coming-  under  this  category 
is  perhaps  the  most  striking  of  all  the  vestigial  organs, 
that  of  the  Vermiform  Appendix  of  the  Csecum.  Here 
is  a  structure  which  is  not  oidy  of  no  use  to  man  now, 
but  is  a  veritable  death-trap.  In  herbivorous  animals 
this  "blind-tube"  is  very  large — longer  in  some  cases 
than  the  body  itself — and  of  great  use  in  digestion,  biit 
in  Man  it  is  shrunken  into  the  merest  rudiment,  Avhile 
in  the  Orang-outang  it  is  only  a  little  lai-ger.  In  the 
human  subject,  owing  to  its  diminutive  size,  it  can  be 
of  no  use  whatever,  while  it  forms  an  easy  receptacle 
for  the  lodgment  of  foreign  bodies,  such  as  fiiiit- 
stones,  which  set  up  inflammation,  and  in  various 
ways  cause  death.  In  JMan  this  tube  is  the  same  in 
structure  as  the  rest  of  the  intestine ;  it  is  "  covered 
with  peritoneum,  possesses  a  muscular  coat,  and  is 
lined  with  mucous  mendirane.  In  the  early  eml)ryo  it 
is  equal  in  calibre  to  the  rest  of  the  bowel,  but  at  a 
certain  date  it  ceases  to  grow  ^x«-i  ^^cissu  with  it,  and 
at  the  time  of  birth  appears  as  a  thin  tubular  appendix 
to  the  csecum.  In  the  newly-born  child  it  is  often 
absolutely  as  long  as  in  the  full-grown  man.  Tiiis 
precocity  is  always  an  indication  that  the  part  was 
of  great  importance  to  the  ancestors  of  the  human 
species."  ^ 

So  important  is  the  key  of  Evolution  to  the  modern 
pathologist  that  in  cases  of  t)ialformat%o)i  his  first 
resort   is   always   to   seek   an   explanation   in   earlier 

1  Sutton,  Evolution  and  iJineai^c,  p.  Go. 


98         THE  SCAFFOLDING  LEFT  IN  THE  BODY. 

forms  of  life.  It  is  found  that  conditions  \Aiiich  are 
patliological  in  one  animal  are  natural  in  others  of  a 
lower  species.  When  any  eccentricity  appears  in  a 
human  body  the  anatomist  no  longer  sets  it  down  as 
a  freak  of  Nature.  He  proceeds  to  match  it  lower 
down.  ]Mr.  Darwin  mentions  a  case  of  a  man  who, 
in  his  foot  alone,  had  no  less  than  seven  abnormal 
nuiscles.  Each  of  these  was  found  among  the  muscles 
of  lower  animals.  Take,  again,  a  common  case  of  mal- 
formation— club-foot.  All  children  before  birth  dis- 
play the  most  ordinary  form  of  this  deformity — that, 
namely,  where  the  sole  is  turned  inwards  and  upwards 
and  the  foot  is  raised — and  it  is  only  gradually  that 
the  foot  attains  the  normal  adult  position.  The  ab- 
normal position,  abnormal  that  is  in  adult  ]Man,  is  the 
normal  condition  of  things  in  the  case  of  the  gorilla. 
Club-foot,  hence,  is  simply  gorilla-foot — a  case  of  the 
arrested  development  of  a  character  which  apparently 
came  along  the  line  of  the  direct  Simian  stock.  So 
simple  is  this  method  of  interpreting  the  present  by 
the  past,  and  so  fruitful,  that  the  anatomist  has  been 
able  in  many  instances  to  assume  the  role  of  prophet. 
Adult  man  possesses  no  more  than  twelve  pair  of  ribs; 
the  prediction  was  hazarded  by  an  older  Comparative 
Anatomy  that  in  the  embryonic  state  he  would  be 
found  with  thirteen  or  fourteen.  This  prophecy  has 
since  been  verified.  It  was  also  predicted  that  at  this 
early  stage  he  would  be  found  to  possess  the  insignifi- 
cant remnant  of  a  very  small  bone  in  the  wrist,  the 
so-called  os  centrales  which  must  have  existed  in  the 
adult  condition  of  his  extremely  remote  ancestors. 
This  prediction  has  also  been  fulfilled,  as  Weismann 
aptly  remarks,  "  just  as  the  planet  Xeptune  was  dis- 


THE  SCAFFOLDING  LEFT  IN  THE  BODY.  97 

covered  after  its  existence  had  been  predicted  from 
the  disturbances  induced  in  the  orbit  of  Uranus."^ 

But  tlie  enumeration  becomes  tedious.  Though  we 
are  only  at  tlie  beginning  of  the  list,  sufficient  has 
been  said  to  mark  the  intei'est  of  tliis  part  of  the  sub- 
ject, and  the  redundancy  of  the  proof.  In  the  human 
body  alone,  there  are  at  least  seventy  of  these  vesti- 
gial structures.  Take  away  the  theory  that  Man  has 
evolved  from  a  lower  animal  condition,  and  there  is 
no  explanation  whatever  of  any  one  of  these  phe- 
nomena. With  such  facts  before  us,  it  is  mocking 
human  intelligence  to  assure  us  that  Man  has  not 
some  connection  with  the  rest  of  the  animal  creation, 
or  that  the  processes  of  his  development  stand  unre- 
lated to  the  other  ways  of  Nature.  That  I'rovidence, 
in  making  a  new  being,  should  deliberately  have 
inserted  these  eccentricities,  without  their  having  any 
real  connection  with  the  things  they  so  well  imitate, 
or  any  working  relation  to  the  rest  of  his  body  is, 
with  our  present  knowledge,  simple  irreverence. 

Were  it  the  present  object  to  complete  a  proof  of 
the  descent  of  Man,  one  might  go  on  to  select  from 
other  departments  of  science,  evidence  not  less  strik- 
ing than  that  from  vestigial  structures.  From  the 
side  of  palaeontology  it  might  be  shown  that  JNIan 
appears  in  the  earth's  crust  like  any  other  fossil,  and 
in  the  exact  place  where  science  would  expect  to  iind 
him.  A\'hen  born,  he  is  ushered  into  life  like  any 
other  animal;  he  is  subject  to  the  same  diseases;  he 
yields  to  the  same  treatment.  When  fully  grown 
there  is  almost  nothing  in  his  anatomy  to  distinguish 

^  "VVeismann,  Biuloylcal  Mcinoir.-<,  \\  2ij5. 


98         THE  SCAFFOLDING  LEFT  IN  THE  BODY. 

him  from  his  nearest  allies  among  other  animals — • 
almost  bone  for  bone,  nerve  for  nerve,  muscle  for 
muscle  he  is  the  same.  There  is  in  fact  a  body  of 
evidence  now  before  science  for  the  animal  origin  of 
Man's  physical  frame  which  it  is  impossible  for  a 
thinking  mind  to  resist.  Up  to  this  point  two  only 
out  of  the  many  conspiring  lines  of  testimony  have 
been  drawn  upon  for  their  contribution  ;  but  enough 
has  been  said  to  encourage  us,  with  this  as  at  least  a 
working  theory,  to  continue  the  journey.  It  is  the 
Ascent  of  Man  that  concerns  us  and  not  the  Descent. 
And  these  amazing  facts  about  the  pasjt  are  cited  for 
a  larger  purpose  than  to  produce  conviction  on  a  point 
which,  after  all,  is  of  importance  only  in  its  higher 
implications. 


CHAPTER  III. 

\  THE  ARREST  OF  THE  BODY. 

"  Ox  the  Earth  there  will  never  be  a  higher  Creat- 
ure than  Man-."  ^  It  is  a  daring  prophecy,  but  every 
probability  of  Science  attests  the  likelihood  of  its  ful- 
filment. The  goal  looked  forward  to  from  the  begin- 
ning of  time  has  been  attained.  Nature  has  succeeded 
in  making  a  Man ;  she  can  go  no  further ;  Organic 
Evolution  has  done  its  work. 

This  is  not  a  conceit  of  Science,  nor  a  reminiscence 
of  the  pre-Copernican  idea  that  the  centre  of  the 
universe  is  tlie  world,  and  the  centre  of  the  world 
Man.  It  is  the  sober  scientific  probability  that  with 
the  body  of  Man  the  final  fruit  of  the  tree  of  Organic 
Evolution  has  appeared ;  that  the  highest  possibilities 
o[)cn  to  flesh  and  bone  and  nerve  and  muscle  have 
now  been  realized  ;  that  in  whatever  direction,  and 
with  whatever  materials.  Evolution  still  may  work,  it 
will  never  pi'oduce  any  material  thing  more  perfect  in 
design  or  workmanship ;  that  in  JMan,  in  short,  about 
this  time  in  history,  we  are  confronted  witli  a  stu])en- 
dous   crisis    in    Nature, — the   Arrest   of   the    Animal. 

1  Fiske,  Destiny  of  Man,  p.  20.  What  follows  owes  much  to  this 
suajsestivc  hrorhurr. 

99 


100        THE  ARREST  OF  THE  BODY. 

The  Man,  the  Animal  Man,  the  Man  of  Organic  Evo- 
lution, it  is  at  least  certain,  will  not  go  on.  It  is 
another  jNIan  who  will  go  on,  a  Man  within  this  Man ; 
and  that  he  may  go  on  the  first  Man  must  stop,  Let 
us  try  for  a  moment  to  learn  what  it  is  to  stop. 
Nothing  could  teach  Man  better  what  is  meant  by 
his  going  on. 

One  of  the  most  perfect  pieces  of  mechanism  in  the 
human  body  is  the  Hand.  How  long  it  has  taken  to 
develop  may  be  dimly  seen  by  a  glance  at  the  long 
array  of  less  accurate  instruments  of  prehension 
which  shade  away  with  ever  decreasing  delicacy  and 
perfectness  as  we  descend  the  scale  of  animal  life.  At 
the  bottom  of  that  scale  is  the  Amoeba.  It  is  a  speck 
of  protoplasmic  jelly,  headless,  footless,  and  armless. 
When  it  wishes  to  seize  the  microsco[)ic  particle  of 
food  on  wliicli  it  lives  a  portion  of  its  body  lengthens 
out,  and,  moving  towards  the  object,  flows  over  it,  en- 
gulfs it,  and  melts  back  again  into  the  body.  This 
is  its  Hand.  At  any  place,  and  at  any  moment,  it 
creates  a  Hand.  Each  Hand  is  extemporized  as  it  is 
needed  ;  when  not  needed  it  is  not.  Pass  a  little 
higher  up  the  scale  and  observe  the  Sea-Anemone. 
The  Hand  is  no  longer  extemporized  as  occasion  re- 
quires, but  lengthened  portions  of  the  body  are  set 
a[)art  and  kept  permanently  in  shape  for  the  purpose 
of  seizing  food.  Here,  in  the  ca[)ital  of  twining  ten- 
tacles whicli  crowns  the  quivei'ing  pillar  of  the  body, 
we  get  the  rude  approximation  to  the  most  useful  por- 
tion of  the  human  Hand — the  separated  fingers.  It  is 
a  vast  improvement  on  the  earlier  Hand,  but  the 
jointless  digits  are  still  imperfect ;  it  is  simply  the 
Amoeba  Hand  cut  into  permanent  strips. 


THE  ARREST  OF  THE  BODY.  101 


Passing  over  a  multitude  of  intermediate  forms, 
watch,  in  the  next  place,  the  Hand  of  an  African 
Monkey.  Note  the  great  increase  in  usefulness  due  to 
the  muscular  arm  upon  which  tli€  Hand  is  now 
extended,  and  tlie  extraordinary  capacity  for  varied 
motion  afforded  by  the  threefold  system  of  jointing 
at  shoulder,  elbow,  and  wrist.  The  Hand  itself  is 
almost  the  human  Hand  ;  there  are  palm  and  nail  and 
articulated  fingers.  But  observe  how  one  circum- 
stance hinders  the  possessor  from  taking  full  advan- 
tage of  these  great  improvements, — this  Hand  has  no 
thumb,  or  if  it  has,  it  is  but  a  rudiment.  To  estimate 
the  importance  of  this  apparently  insignificant  organ, 
try  for  a  moment  without  using  the  thumb  to  hold  a 
book,  or  write  a  letter,  or  do  any  single  piece  of  man- 
ual work.  A  thumb  is  not  merely  an  additional 
finger,  but  a  finger  so  arranged  as  to  be  opjwsable  to 
the  other  fi)igers^  and  thus  possesses  a  practical  efficacy 
greater  than  all  the  fingers  put  together.  It  is  this 
which  gives  the  organ  the  power  to  seize,  to  hold,  to 
manipulate,  to  do  higher  work;  this  simple  mechan- 
ical device  in  short  endows  the  Hand  of  intelligence 
with  all  its  capacity  and  skill.  Xow  there  ai'e  ani- 
mals, like  the  Colobi,  which  have  no  thumb  at  all ; 
there  are  others,  like  the  ]\Iarmoset,  which  possess  the 
thumb,  but  in  which  it  is  not  opposable ;  and  there 
are  others,  tlie  Chimpanzee  for  instance,  in  which  the 
Hand  is  in  all  essentials  identical  with  Man's.  In  the 
human  form  the  thumb  is  a  little  longer,  and  the 
wiiole  member  more  delicate  and  shapely,  but  even 
for  the  use  of  lier  highest  product.  Nature  has  not 
been  able  to  make  anything  much  more  perfect  than 
the  hand  of  this  anthropoid  ape. 


10-2  rilE  ARREST  OF  THE  BODY. 

Is  the  Hand  then  finished  ?  Can  Nature  take  out 
no  new  patent  in  this  direction  ?  Is  the  fact  that  no 
novelty  is  introduced  in  tlie  case  of  Man  a  proof  that 
the  ultimate  Hand  has  appeared?  By  no  means. 
And  yet  it  is  probable  for  other  reasons  that  the 
ultimate  Hand  has  appeared ;  that  there  will  never  be 
a  more  perfectly  handed  animal  than  Man.  And 
why?  Because  the  causes  which  up  to  this  point 
have  furthered  the  evolution  of  the  Hand  have  begun 
to  cease  to  act.  In  the  perfecting  of  the  bodily 
organs,  as  of  all  other  mechanical  devices,  necessity  is 
the  mother  of  invention.  As  the  Hand  was  given 
more  and  more  to  do,  it  became  more  and  more 
adapted  to  its  work.  Up  to  a  point,  it  respond- 
ed directly  to  each  new  duty  that  was  laid  upon 
it.  But  only  up  to  a  point.  There  came  a  time 
when  the  necessities  became  too  numerous  and  too 
varied  for  adaptation  to  keep  pace  with  them.  And 
the  fatal  day  came,  the  fatal  day  for  the  Hand,  when 
he  who  bore  it  made  a  new  discovery.  It  was  the 
discovery  of  Tools.  Henceforth  what  the  Hand  used 
to  do,  and  was  slowly  becoming  adapted  to  do  better, 
was  to  be  done  by  external  appliances.  So  that  if 
anything  new  arose  to  be  done,  or  to  be  better  done, 
it  was  not  a  better  Hand  that  was  now  made  but  a 
better  tool.  Tools  are  external  Hands.  Levers  are 
the  extensions  of  the  bones  of  the  arm.  Hammers  are 
callous  substitutes  for  the  fist.  Knives  do  the  work 
of  nails.  The  vice  and  the  pincers  replace  tlie  fin- 
gers. The  day  that  Cave-man  first  split  the  marrow 
bone  of  a  bear  by  thrusting  a  stick  into  it,  and  strik- 
ing it  home  with  a  stone — that  day  the  doom  of  the 
Hand  was  sealed. 


THE  An  REST  OF  THE  BODY.  103 


But  has  not  Man  to  make  his  tools,  and  will  not 
that  induce  the  development  of  the  Hand  to  an  as  yet 
unknown  perfection  ?  No.  Because  tools  are  not 
made  with  the  Hand.  They  are  made  Avith  the  Brain. 
For  a  time,  certainly.  Man  had  to  make  his  tools,  and 
for  a  time  this  work  recompensed  him  physically,  and 
the  arm  became  elastic  and  the  fingers  dexterous  and 
strong.  But  soon  he  made  tools  to  make  these  tools. 
In  place  of  shaping  things  with  the  Hand,  he  invented 
the  turning-lathe ;  to  save  his  fingers  he  requisitioned 
the  loom  ;  instead  of  working  his  muscles  he  gave  out 
the  contract  to  electricity  and  steam.  Man,  therefore, 
from  this  time  forward  will  cease  to  develop  materi- 
ally these  organs  of  his  body.  If  he  develops  them 
outside  his  body,  filling  the  world  everywliere  with 
artificial  Hands,  supplying  the  workshops  with  fingers 
more  intricate  and  deft  than  Organic  Evolution  could 
make  in  a  millennium,  and  loosing  energies  upon  them 
infinitely  more  gigantic  than  his  muscles  could  gener- 
ate in  a  lifetime,  it  is  enough.  Evolution  after  all  is  a 
slow  process.  Its  great  labor  is  to  work  up  to  a  point 
where  Invention  shall  be  possible,  and  where,  by  the 
powers  of  the  human  mind,  and  by  the  mechanical 
utilization  of  the  energies  of  tlie  universe,  the  results 
of  ages  of  development  may  be  anticipated.  Further 
changes,  therefore,  within  the  body  itself  are  made 
unnecessary.  Evolution  has  taken  a  new  departure. 
For  tlie  Arrest  of  the  Hand  is  not  tlie  cessation  of 
Evolution  but  its  innnense  acceleration,  and  the  re- 
direction of  its  energies  into  higher  chaimels. 

Take  up  the  functions  of  the  animal  body  one  by 
one,  and  it  will  be  seen  how  the  same  arresting  finger 
is  laid  upon  them  all.     To  select    an   additional   illus- 


104  THE  AnnEST  OF  TlfE  BODY 


tration,  consider  the  power  of  Sight.  Without  paus- 
ing to  trace  the  steps  l)y  which  the  Eye  lias  reached 
its  marvellous  perfection,  or  to  estimate  the  ages  spent 
in  polishing  its  lenses  and  adjusting  the  diaphragms 
and  screws,  ask  the  simple  question  whether,  under 
tlie  conditions  of  modei'u  civilization,  anytliing  now  is 
being  added  to  its  quickening  efficiency,  or  range.  Is 
it  not  rather  the  testimony  of  experience  that  if  any- 
thing its  power  has  begun  to  wane?  Europe  even 
now  affords  the  spectacle  of  at  least  one  nation  so 
short-sighted  that  it  might  almost  be  called  a  myopic 
race.  The  same  causes,  in  fact,  that  led  to  the  Arrest 
of  the  Hand  are  steadily  working  to  stop  the  develoj)- 
ment  of  the  Eye.  Man,  Avhen  he  sees  with  difficulty, 
does  not  now  improve  his  Eye;  he  puts  on  ^ lyince-nez. 
Spectacles — external  eyes — have  superseded  the  work 
of  Evolution.  When  his  sight  is  perfect  up  to  a  point, 
and  he  desires  to  examine  objects  so  minute  as  to  lie 
beyond  the  limit  of  that  point,  he  will  not  wait  for 
Evolution  to  catch  up  upon  his  demand  and  supply 
him,  or  his  children's  children,  with  a  more  perfect 
instrument.  lie  Avill  invest  in  a  microscope.  Or 
when  he  wishes  to  extend  his  gaze  to  the  moon  and 
stars,  he  does  not  hope  to  reach  to-morrow  the  dis- 
tances which  to-day  transcend  him.  He  invents  the 
telescope.  Organic  Evolution  has  not  even  a  chance. 
In  every  direction  the  external  eye  has  rej^laced  the 
internal,  and  it  is  even  difficult  to  suggest  where  any 
further  development  of  this  part  of  the  animal  can 
now  come  in.  There  are  still,  and  in  spite  of  all 
instruments,  regions  in-  which  the  unaided  organs  of 
Man  may  continue  to  find  a  field  for  the  fullest  exer- 
cise, but  the  area  is  slowly  narrowing,  and  in  every 


THE  Ann  EST  of  the  body.  io5 


direction  the  appliances  of  Science  tempt  the  body  to 
accept  those  supplements  of  the  Arts,  which,  being 
accepted,  involve  the  discontinuance  of  development 
for  all  the  parts  concerned.  Even  where  a  mechanical 
appliance,  wliile  adding  range  to  a  bodily  sense,  has 
seemed  to  open  a  door  for  further  improvement,  some 
correlated  discovery  in  a  distant  held  of  science,  as  by 
some  I'emorseless  fate,  has  suddenly  taken  away  the 
oppoitunity  and  offered  to  the  body  only  an  additional 
inducement  for  neglect.  Thus  it  might  be  thought 
that  the  continuous  use  of  the  telesco2">e,  in  the  at- 
tempt to  discover  moi-e  and  more  indistinct  and  dis- 
tant heavenly  bodies,  might  tend  to  increase  the  effi- 
ciency of  the  Eye.  But  that  expectation  has  vanished 
already  before  a  further  fruit  of  Plan's  inventive 
power.  By  an  automatic  photographic  apparatus 
fixed  to  the  telescope,  an  Eye  is  now  created  vastly 
more  delicate  and  in  many  respects  more  efficient  than 
the  keenest  eye  of  Man.  In  at  least  five  important 
particulars  the  Photographic  Eye  is  the  superior  of 
the  Eye  of  Organic  Evolution.  It  can  see  where  the 
human  Eye,  even  with  the  best  aids  of  optical  instru- 
ments, sees  nothing  at  all ;  it  can  distinguish  certain 
objects  with  far  greater  clearness  and  definition ; 
owing  to  the  rapidity  of  its  action  it  can  instantly  de- 
tect changes  which  are  too  sudden  for  the  human  eye 
to  follow;  it  can  look  steadily  for  hours  without  grow- 
ing tired;  and  it  can  record  what  it  sees  with  infal- 
lible accuracy  upon  a  plate  which  time  will  not  efface. 
How  long  would  it  take  Organic  Evolution  to  ariive 
at  an  Eye  of  such  amazing  quality  and  power?  And 
with  such  a  piece  of  mechanism  available,  who,  rather 
than  employ  it  even  to  the  neglect  of  his  oi-gans  of 


106  THE  An  RE  ST  OF  THE  BODY. 

vision,  would  be  content  to  await  the  possible  attain- 
ment of  an  equal  perfection  by  his  descendants  some 
million  years  hence?  Is  there  not  here  a  conspicuous 
testimony  to  the  improbability  of  a  further  Evolution 
of  the  sense  of  Sight  in  civilized  communities — in 
other  words,  another  proof  of  the  Arrest  of  the 
Animal?  What  defiance  of  Evolution,  indeed,  what 
affront  to  Nature,  is  this?  Man  prepares  a  compli- 
cated telescope  to  supplement  the  Eye  created  by  Evo- 
lution, and  no  sooner  is  it  perfected  than  it  occurs  to 
him  to  create  another  instrument  to  aid  the  Eye  in 
what  little  work  is  left  for  it  to  do.  That  is  to  say, 
he  first  makes  a  mechanical  sujDplement  to  his  Eye, 
then  constructs  a  mechanical  Eye,  which  is  better 
than  his  own,  to  see  through  it,  and  ends  by  discard- 
ing, for  many  purposes,  the  Eye  of  Organic  Evolution 
altogether. 

As  regards  the  other  functions  of  civilized  Man, 
the  animal  in  almost  everj'  direction  has  reached 
its  maxiuunn.  Civilization — and  the  civilized  state,  be 
it  remembered,  is  the  ultimate  goal  of  every  race  and 
nation — is  always  attended  by  deterioration  of  some 
of  the  senses.  Every  man  pays  a  definite  price  or 
forfeit  for  his  taming.  The  sense  of  smell,  compared 
witli  its  development  among  the  lower  animals,  is  in 
civilized  IMan  already  all  but  gone.  Compared  even 
with  a  savage,  it  is  an  ascertained  fact  that  the  civil- 
ized Man  in  this  respect  is  vastly  inferior.  So  far  as 
hearing  is  concerned,  the  main  stimulus — fear  of  sur- 
prise by  enemies — has  ceased  to  operate,  and  the 
muscles  for  the  erection  of  the  ears  have  fallen  into 
disuse.  The  ear  itself  in  contrast  with  that  of  tlie 
savage   is   slow   and   dull,  while   compared   with   the 


THE  ARREST  OF  THE  BODY.  1()7 

quick  sense  of  the  lower  animals,  the  organ  is  almost 
deaf.  The  skin,  from  the  continuous  use  of  clothes, 
lias  forfeited  its  protective  power.  Owing  to  the  use 
of  viands  cooked,  the  muscles  of  the  jaw  are  rapidly 
losing  strength.  The  teeth,  partly  for  a  similar 
reason,  are  undergoing  marked  degeneration.  Tlie 
third  molar,  for  instance,  among  some  nations  is 
aJread}^  showing  symptoms  of  suppression,  and  that 
this  threatens  ultimate  extinction  may  be  reasoned 
from  the  fact  that  the  anthropoid  apes  have  fewer 
teeth  than  the  lower  monkeys,  and  these  fewer  than 
the  preceding  generation  of  insectivorous  mammals. 

In  an  age  of  vehicles  and  locomotives  the  lower 
limbs  find  their  occupation  almost  gone.  For  mere 
muscle,  that  on  which  his  whole  life  once  depended, 
Man  has  almost  now  no  use.  Agilit3%  nimbleness, 
strength,  once  a  stern  necessity,  are  either  a  luxury 
or  a  pastime.  Their  outlet  is  the  cricket-field  or  the 
tennis-court.  To  keep  them  up  at  all  artificial  means 
— dumb-bells,  parallel-bars,  clubs— have  actually  to  be 
devised.  Vigor  of  limb  is  not  to  be  found  in  com- 
mon life,  we  look  for  it  in  the  Gymnasium;  agiUty 
is  relegated  to  the  Hippodrome.  Once  all  men  were 
athletes ;  now  you  have  to  pay  to  see  them.  Moi'o  or 
less  with  all  the  animal  powers  it  is  the  same.  To 
some  extent  at  least  some  phonograph  may  yet  speak 
for  us,  some  telephone  hear  for  us,  the  typewriter 
write  for  us,  chemistry  digest  for  us,  and  incubation 
nurture  us.  So  everywhere  the  Man  as  Animal  is  in 
danger  of  losing  ground.  lie  has  expanded  mitil  the 
world  is  his  body.  The  former  body,  the  hundred 
and  fifty  pomuls  or  so  of  oi-ganized  tissue  he  cai'i'ies 
about  with  him,  is  little  more  than  a  mark  of  identity. 


108        THE  ARREST  OF  THE  BODY 


It  is  not  he  who  is  there,  he  cannot  be  tliei-e,  or  any- 
where, for  he  is  everywhere.  The  material  part  of 
him  is  reduced  to  a  symbol ;  it  is  but  a  link  with  the 
wider  framework  of  the  Arts,  a  belt  between  ma- 
chinery and  machinery.  His  body  no  longer  gener- 
ates, but  only  utilizes  energy ;  alone  he  is  but  a  tool, 
a  medium,  a  turncock  of  the  physical  forces. 

Now  wiMi  what  feelings  do  we  regard  all  this  ?  Is 
not  the  crowning  proof  of  the  thesis  under  review  that 
we  watch  this  evidence  accumulating  against  the  body 
with  no  emotion  and  hear  the  doom  of  our  clay 
pronounced  without  a  regret?  It  is  nothing  to  aspir- 
ing Man  to  watch  the  lower  animals  still  perfecting 
their  mechanism  and  putting  all  his  physical  powers 
and  senses  to  the  shame.  It  is  nothing  to  him  to  be 
distanced  in  nimbleness  by  the  deer :  has  he  not  his 
bullet?  Or  in  strength  by  the  horse:  has  he  not  bit 
and  bridle?  Or  in  vision  by  the  eagle  :  liis  field-glass 
out-sees  it.  How  easily  we  talk  of  the  body  as  a 
thing  without  us,  as  an  impersonal  it.  And  how  nat- 
urally when  all  is  over,  do  we  advertise  its  irrelevancy 
to  ourselves  by  consigning  its  bori'owed  atoms  to  the 
anonymous  dust.  The  fact  is,  in  one  aspect,  the  body, 
to  Intelligence,  is  all  but  an  absurdity.  One  is  almost 
ashamed  to  have  one.  The  idea  of  having  to  feed  it, 
and  exercise  it,  and  humor  it,  and  put  it  away  in  the 
dark  to  sleep,  to  carry  it  about  witli  one  everywhere, 
and  not  only  it  but  its  wardrobe — other  material 
things  to  make  this  material  thing  warm  or  keep  it 
cool — the  wliole  situation  is  a  comedy.  But  judge 
wliat  it  would  be  if  this  exacting  organism  went  on 
evolving,  multiplied  its  members,  added  to  its  in- 
tricacy, waxed  instead  of  waned  ?     So  complicated  is 


THE  ARREST  OF  THE  BODY.  1U9 

it  .already  that  one  shrinks  from  contemplating  a 
future  race  having  to  keep  in  repair  an  apparatus 
more  involved  and  delicate.  The  practical  advantage 
is  enormous  of  having  all  improvements  henceforth 
external,  of  having  insensate  organs  made  of  iron  and 
steel  rather  than  of  wasting  muscle  and  palpitating 
nerve.  For  these  can  be  kept  at  no  physiological  cost, 
they  cannot  impede  the  other  machinery,  and  when 
that  finally  comes  to  the  last  break-down  there  will  be 
the  fewer  wheels  to  stop. 

So  great  indeed  is  the  advantage  of  increasing  me- 
chanical supplements  to  the  physical  frame  rather 
than  exercising  the  physical  frame  itself,  that  this  will 
become  nothing  slicn't  of  a  temptation ;  and  not  the 
least  anxious  task  of  future  civilization  will  be  to  pre- 
vent degeneration  beyond  a  legitimate  point,  and  keep 
up  the  body  to  its  highest  working  level.  For  the 
first  thing  to  be  learned  from  these  facts  is  not  that 
the  Body  is  nothing  and  must  now  decay,  but  that  it 
is  most  of  all  and  more  than  ever  worthy  to  be  pre- 
served. The  moment  our  care  of  it  slackens,  the  Body 
asserts  itself.  It  comes  out  from  under  arrest — Avhicli 
is  the  one  thing  to  be  avoided.  Its  true  place  by  the 
ordained  appointment  of  Nature  is  where  it  can  be 
ignored;  if  through  disease,  neglect  or  injury  it  re- 
tui'ns  to  consciousness,  the  effect  of  Evolution  is  un- 
done. Sickness  is  degeneration ;  \)\x\n  the  signal  to 
resume  the  evolution.  On  the  one  hand,  one  nuist 
"reckon  the  Body  dead"  ;  on  the  other,  one  nnist  think 
of  it  in  order  not  to  think  of  it. 

This  arrest  of  physical  development  at  a  specific 
point  is  not  confined  to  Man.  Everywhere  in  the 
orgaiiic   world   science    is    confronted    with   arrested 


110  THE  ARREST  OF  THE  BODY. 

types.  While  endless  groups  of  plant  and  animal 
forms  have  advanced  during-  the  geological  ages,  other 
whole  groups  have  apparently  stood  still — stood  still, 
that  is  to  sa}',  not  in  time  l)ut  in  organization.  If 
Nature  is  full  of  moving  things,  it  is  also  full  of  fix- 
tures. Thirty-one  years  ago  oNlr.  Huxley  devoted  the 
anniversary  Address  of  the  Geological  Society  to  a 
consideration  of  wliat  he  called  "  Persistent  Types  of 
Life,"  and  threw  down  to  Evolutionists  a  puzzle  which 
has  never  yet  been  fully  solved.  While  some  forms 
attained  their  climacteric  tens  of  thousands  of  years 
ago  and  perished,  others  persevered,  and,  without  ad- 
vancing in  any  material  respect,  are  alive  to  this  day. 
Among  the  most  ancient  Carl)oniferous  plants,  for  in- 
stance, are  found  certain  forms  generically  identical 
with  those  now  living.  Tlie  cone  of  the  existing  Arau- 
caria  is  scarcely  to  he  distinguished  from  that  of  an 
Oolite  form.  The  Tabulate  Corals  of  the  Silurian 
period  are  simihii-  to  those  which  exist  to-da3\  The 
Lamp-shells  of  our  present  seas  so  abounded  at  the 
same  ancient  date  as  to  give  their  name  to  one  of  the 
great  groups  of  Silurian  rocks — the  Lingula  Flags. 
Star-fishes  and  Sea-urchins,  almost  the  same  as  those 
which  tenant  the  coast-lines  of  our  present  seas, 
crawled  along  what  are  now  among  the  most  ancient 
fossiliferous  rocks.  Both  of  tlie  forms  just  named, 
the  Brachiopods  and  the  Echinoderms,  have  come 
down  to  us  almost  unchanged  through  the  nameless 
gap  of  time  which  separates  the  Silurian  and  Old  Bed 
Sandstone  periods  from  the  j^resent  ei'a. 

This  constancy  of  structure  reveals  a  conservatism 
In  Nature,  as  unexpected  as  it  is  wide-spread.  Does  it 
mean  that  the  architecture  of  living  tilings  has  a  limit 


THE  ARREST  OF  THE  BODY.  Ill 

beyond  which  development  cannot  go?  Does  it  mean 
that  the  morphological  possibilities  along  certain  lines 
of  bodily  structure  have  exiiausted  themselves,  that 
the  course  of  conceivable  development  in  these  in- 
stances has  actually  run  out?  In  Gothic  Architec- 
ture, or  in  Xorman,  tliei'e  are  terminal  points  Avhich, 
once  reached,  can  bo  but  little  improved  upon.  ^Vith- 
out  limiting  working  efficiency,  they  can  go  no  further. 
These,  styles  in  the  very  nature  of  things  seem  to  have 
limits.  Mr.  Ruskin  has  indeed  assured  us  that  there 
are  only  tliree  possil)le  forms  of  good  architecture  in 
the  world;  Greek,  the  architecture  of  the  Lintel; 
Romanesque,  the  architecture  of  the  Rounded  Arch ; 
Gothic,  the  architecture  of  the  Gable.  "All  the  archi- 
tects in  the  world  will  never  discover  any  other  way 
of  bridging  a  space  than  these  three,  the  Lintel,  the 
Round  Arch,  the  Gable  ;  they  may  vary  the  curve  of 
the  arch,  or  curve  the  sides  of  the  gable,  or  break 
them  down  ;  but  in  doing  this  they  are  nuM-cly  modi- 
fying oi'  sul)-dividing,  not  adding  to  the  generic 
form.''  1 

In  some  such  way,  there  may  be  terminal  generic 
forms  in  the  architecture  of  animals;  and  the  persist- 
ent types  just  named  may  represent  in  their  several 
directions  the  natural  limits  of  possible  modification. 
No  further  modification  of  a  radical  kind,  that  is  to 
say,  could  in  these  instances  be  introduced  with- 
out detriment  to  practical  efficiency.  These  termi- 
nal forms  thus  mark  a  noi-mal  maturity,  a  goal; 
they  represent  the  ends  of  tlui  twigs  of  the  tree  of 
life. 

Now  considei^the  significance  of  that  fact.  Nature 
^Stones  (if  Venice,  ii,  2;JG. 


112  THE  An  REST  OF  THE  BODY. 

is  not  an  interminable  succession.  It  is  not  always  a 
becoming.  Sometimes  things  arrive.  The  Lamp- 
shells  have  arrived,  they  are  part  of  the  permanent 
furniture  of  the  world ;  along  that  particular  line, 
there  will  probably  never  be  anything  higher.  The 
Star-fishes  also  have  arrived,  and  the  Sea-urchins,  and 
the  Nautilus,  and  tlie  Bony  Fishes,  the  Tapirs,  and 
possibly  the  Horse — all  these  are  highly  divergent 
forms  which  have  run  out  the  length  of  their  tether 
and  can  go  no  further.  When  the  plan  of  the  world 
was  made,  to  speak  tcleologically,  these  types  of  life 
were  assigned  theii-  place  and  limit,  and  there  they 
have  remained.  If  it  were  wanted  to  convey  the  im- 
pression that  Xature  had  some  large  end  in  view,  that 
she  w'as  not  drifting  aimlessly  towards  a  general 
higher  level,  it  could  not  have  been  done  more  im- 
pressively than  by  everywhere  placing  on  the  field  of 
Science  these  fixed  points,  these  innumerable  consum- 
mations, these  clean-cut  mountain  peaks,  which  for 
millenniums  have  never  grown.  Even  as  there  is  a 
plan  in  the  parts,  there  is  a  plan  in  the  whole. 

But  the  most  certain  of  all  these  "terminal  points" 
in  the  evolution  of  Creation  is  the  body  of  Man. 
Anatomy  places  IVIan  at  the  head  of  all  other  animals 
that  were  ever  made;  but  what  is  infinitely  more  in- 
structive, with  him,  as  we  have  just  seen,  the  series 
comes  to  an  end.  Man  is  not  only  the  highest  branch, 
but  the  highest  possible  branch.  Take  as  a  last  wit- 
ness the  testimony  of  anatomy  itself  with  regard  to 
the  human  brain.  Here  the  fact  is  not  only  re- 
affirmed but  tiie  rationale  of  it  suggested  in  terms  of 
scientific  law.  "  The  development  of  the  brain  is  in 
connection  with  a  whole  system  of  development  of  the 


THE  ARREST  OF  THE  BODY.  113 

head  and  face  which  cannot  be  carried  furtlier  than 
in  Man.  For  the  mode  in  wliich  the  cranial  cavity  is 
gradually  increased  in  size  is  a  regular  one,  which 
may  be  explained  thus  :  we  may  look  on  the  skull  as 
an  irregular  cylinder,  and  at  tlie  same  time  that  it  is 
expanded  by  inci-ease  of  height  and  width  it  also 
undergoes  a  curvature  or  bending  on  itself,  so  that  the 
base  is  crumpled  together  while  the  roof  is  elongated. 
This  curving  has  gone  on  in  ]Man  till  the  fore  end  of 
the  cylinder,  the  part  on  which  the  brain  rests  above 
the  nose,  is  nearly  parallel  to  the  aperture  of  com- 
munication of  the  skull  with  the  spinal  canal,  i.  e.,  the 
cranium  has  a  curve  of  180°  or  a  few  degrees  more  or 
less.  This  curving  of  the  base  of  the  skull  involves 
change  in  position  of  the  face  bones  also,  and  could 
not  go  on  to  a  further  extent  without  cutting  off  the 
nasal  cavity  from  the  throat  .  .  .  Thus  there  is 
anatomical  evidence  that  the  development  of  the  ver- 
tebrate form  has  reached  its  limit  by  completion  in 
Man."  1 

This  author's  conception  of  the  whole  field  of  living 
nature  is  so  suggestive  that  we  may  continue  the  quo- 
tation :  "  To  me  the  animal  kingdom  appears  not  in 
indefinite  growth  like  a  tree,  but  a  temple  with  many 
minarets,  none  of  them  capable  of  being  prolonged — 
while  the  central  dome  is  completed  by  the  structure 
of  man.  The  development  of  the  animal  kingdom  is 
the  development  of  intelligence  chained  to  matter ; 
the  animals  in  which  the  nervous  system  has  reached 
the  greatest  perfection  are  the  vertebrates,  and  in  Man 
that  part  of  the  nervous  system  which  is  the  organ  of 

1  Prof.  J.  Clelanfl,  M.D.,  F.R.S.,  Jnnrnal  „/  Anatonnf,  Vol 
XVIII..  ])p.  :;()v)-l. 


114  THE  ARREST  OF  TUE  BODY. 

intelligence  reaches,  as  I  have  sought  to  show,  the 
highest  development  possible  to  a  vertebrate  animal, 
while  intelligence  has  grown  to  reflection  and  volition. 
On  these  grounds,  I  believe,  not  that  Man  is  the 
highest  possible  intelligence,  but  that  the  human  body- 
is  the  highest  form  of  human  life  possible,  subject  to 
the  conditions  of  matter  on  the  surface  of  the  globe, 
and  that  the  structure  completes  the  design  of  the  ani- 
mal kingdom."  ^ 

Never  was  the  body  of  Man  greater  than  with  this 
sentence  of  suspension  passed  on  it,  and  never  was 
Evolution  more  wonderful  or  more  beneficent  than 
when  the  signal  was  given  to  stop  working  at  Man's 
animal  frame.  This  was  an  era  in  the  world's  history. 
For  it  betokened  nothing  less  than  that  the  cycle  of 
matter  was  now  complete,  and  the  one  prefatory  task 
of  the  ages  finished.  Henceforth  the  Weltanschauung 
is  forever  changed.  From  this  pinnacle  of  matter  is 
seen  at  last  wXvAt  matter  is  for,  and  all  the  lower  lives 
that  ever  lived  appear  as'  but  the  scaffolding  for  this 
final  work.  The  whole  sub-human  universe  finds  its 
reason  for  existence  in  its  last  creation,  its  final  justifi- 
cation in  the  new  immaterial  order  which  opened  with 
its  close.  Cut  off  Man  from  Nature,  and,  metaphys- 
ical necessity  apart,  there  remains  in  Nature  no 
divinity.  To  include  Man  in  Evolution  is  not  to  lower 
Man  to  the  level  of  Nature,  but  to  raise  Nature  to  his 
high  estate.  There  he  was  made,  these  atoms  are  his 
confederates,  these  })lant  cells  raised  him  from  the 
dust,  these  travailing  animals  furthered  his  Ascent : 
shall  he  excomnuniicate  them  now  that  their  work  is 
done?  Plant  and  animal  have  each  their  end,  but 
1  Journul  iif  Anato)!);/,  Vol.  xviii.,  p.  G62. 


THE  ARREST  OF  THE  BODY.  115 

Man  is  the  end  of  all  the  ends.  The  latest  science  re- 
instates him,  where  poet  and  philosopher  had  already- 
placed  him,  as  at  once  the  crown,  the  master,  and  the 
rationale  of  creation.  "Not  merely,"  says  Kant,  "is 
he  like  all  organized  beings  an  end  in  nature,  but  also 
here  on  earth  the  last  end  of  nature,  in  reference  to 
whom  all  other  natural  things  constitute  a  system  of 
ends."  Yet  it  is  not  because  he  is  the  end  of  ends, 
but  the  l^eginning  of  beginnings,  that  the  completion 
of  the  Body  marks  a  crisis  in  the  past.  At  last  Evolu- 
tion had  culminated  in  a  creation  so  complex  and  ex- 
alted as  to  form  the  foundation  for  an  inconceivably 
loftier  super-organic  order.  The  moment  an  organism 
was  reached  through  which  Thought  was  jiossible, 
nothing  more  was  required  of  matter.  The  Body  was 
high  enough.  Organic  Evolution  migJit  now  even 
resign  its  sovereignty  of  the  world  ;  it  had  made  a 
thing  which  M^as  now  its  master.  Henceforth  Man 
should  take  charge  of  Evolution  even  as  up  till  now 
he  had  been  the  one  chai-ge  of  it.  Henceforth  his 
selection  should  replace  Natural  Selection;  his  judg- 
ment guide  the  struggle  for  life ;  his  will  determine 
for  every  plant  upon  the  eai'th,  whether  it  should 
bloom  or  fade,  for  every  animal  whether  it  should  in- 
crease, or  change,  or  die.  So  Man  entered  into  his 
Kingdom. 

Science  is  charged,  be  it  once  more  recalled,  with 
numbering  Man  among  the  beasts,  and  levelling  his 
body  with  the  dust.  But  he  who  reads  for  himself 
the  history  of  creation  as  it  is  written  by  the  hand 
of  Evolution  will  be  overwhelmed  by  tlu;  glory  and 
honor  heaped  upon  this  creature.  To  be  a  Man,  and 
to  have  no  conceivable  successor :  to  be  the  fruit  and 


116  THE  ARREST  OF  THE  BODY. 

crown  of  the  long  past  eternity,  and  the  highest  pos- 
sible fruit  and  crown  ;  to  be  the  last  victor  among  the 
decimated  phalanxes  of  earlier  existences,  and  to  be 
nevermore  defeated  ;  to  be  the  best  that  Nature  in  her 
strength  and  opulence  can  produce;  to  be  the  first  of 
that  new  order  of  beings  who  by  their  dominion  over 
the  lower  world  and  their  equipment  for  a  higher, 
reveal  that  they  are  made  in  the  Image  of  God — to  be 
this  is  to  be  elevated  to  a  rank  in  Nature  more  exalted 
than  any  philosophy  or  any  poetry  or  any  theology 
have  ever  given  to  Man.  Man  was  always  told  that 
his  place  was  high ;  the  reason  for  it  he  never  knew 
till  now ;  he  never  knew  that  his  title  deeds  were  the 
very  laws  of  Nature,  that  he  alone  was  the  Alpha  and 
Omega  of  Creation,  the  beginning  and  tlie  end  of 
Matter,  the  final  goal  of  Life. 

Nature  is  full  of  new  departures ;  but  never  since 
time  began  was  there  anything  approaching  in  impor- 
tance that  period  when  the  slumbering  animal,  Brain, 
broke  into  intelligence,  and  the  Creature  first  felt  that 
it  had  a  Mind.  From  that  dateless  moment  a  higher 
and  swifter  progress  of  the  world  began.  Henceforth, 
Intelligence  triumphed  over  structural  adaptation. 
The  wise  were  naturally  selected  before  the  strong. 
The  Mhid  discovered  better  methods,  safer  measures, 
shorter  cuts.  So  the  body  learned  to  refer  to  it,  then 
to  defer  to  it.  As  the  Mind  was  given  more  to  do,  it 
enlarged  and  did  its  work  more  perfectly.  Gradually 
the  favors  of  Evolution — exercise,  alteration,  dif- 
ferentiation, addition — which  were  formerly  distrib- 
uted promiscuously  among  the  bodily  organs — were 
now  lavished  mainly  upon  the  Brain.  The  gains 
accumulated  with  accelerating  velocity  ;  and  by  sheer 


THE  ARREST  OF  THE  BODY.  117 

superiority  and  fitness  for  its  work,  the  Intellect  rose 
to  coninuindin<T  power,  and  entered  into  final  posses- 
sion of  a  monoiioly  which  can  never  be  disturbed. 

Now  this  means  not  only  that  an  order  of  higher 
animals  has  appeared  upon  the  earth,  but  that  an 
altogether  new  page  in  the  history  of  the  universe  has 
begun  to  be  written.  It  means  nothing  less  than  that 
the  working  of  Evolution  has  changed  its  course. 
Once  it  was  a  physical  universe,  now  it  is  a  psychical 
universe.  And  to  say  that  the  working  of  Evolution 
has  changed  its  course,  and  set  its  compass  in  psy- 
chical directions,  is  to  call  attention  to  the  most 
remarkable  fact  in  Nature.  Nothing  so  original  or  so 
revolutionary  has  ever  been  given  to  science  to  dis- 
cover, to  ponder,  or  to  proclaim.  The  power  of  this 
event  to  strike  and  rouse  the  mind  will  depend  upon 
one's  sense  of  what  the  woi'king  of  Evolution  ha^: 
been  to  the  world ;  but  those  who  realize  this  even 
dimly  will  see  that  no  emphasis  of  language  can  exag- 
gerate its  significance.  Let  imagination  do  its  best  to 
summon  up  the  past  of  Nature.  Beginning  with  the 
panorama  of  the  Nebular  Hypothesis,  run  the  eye  over 
the  field  of  PalsBontology,  Geology,  Botany,  and 
Zoology.  Watch  the  majestic  drama  of  Creation 
unfolding,  scene  by  scene  and  act  by  act.  Realize 
that  one  power,  and  only  one,  has  marshalled  the 
figui'es  for  this  mighty  spectacle  ;  that  one  hand,  and 
only  one,  has  carried  out  these  transformations  ;  that 
one  principle,  and  only  one,  has  controlled  each  sub- 
sidiary plot  and  circumstance  ;  that  the  same  great 
patient  unobtrusive  law  has  guided  and  shaped  the 
whole  from  its  beginnings  in  bewilderment  and  chaos 
to  its  end  in  order,  harmony,  and  beauty.    Then  Avatch 


118  THE  ARUE<^T  OF  THE  BODY. 

the  curtain  drop.  And  as  it  moves  to  rise  again, 
behold  tlie  new  actor  npon  tlie  stage.  Silently,  as  all 
great  changes  come,  Mental  Evolution  has  succeeded 
Organic.  All  the  things  that  have  been  now  lie  in  the 
far  background  as  forgotten  properties.  And  Man 
stands  alone  in  the  foreground,  and  a  new  thing, 
Spirit,  strives  within  biui. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  DAWN  OF  MIND. 

The  most  beautiful  witness  to  tlie  Evolution  of  Man 
is  the  Mind  of  a  little  cliild.  The  stealing  in  of  that 
inexplicable  light — yet  not  more  light  than  sound 
or  touch — called  consciousness,  the  first  flicker  of 
memory,  the  gradual  governance  of  will,  the  silent 
ascendancy  of  reason — these  are  studies  in  Evolution 
the  oldest,  the  sweetest,  and  the  most  full  of  meaning 
for  mankind.  Evolution,  after  all,  is  a  study  for  the 
luirsery.  It  was  ages  before  Darwhi  or  Lamarck  or 
Lucretius  that  Maternity,  bending  over  tlie  hollowed 
cradle  in  the  forest  for  a  first  smile  of  recognition  from 
her  babe,  expressed  the  earliest  trust  in  the  doctrine 
of  development.  Every  mother  since  then  is  an  un- 
conscious Evolutionist,  and  every  little  child  a  living 
witness  to  Ascent. 

Is  the  Mind  a  new  or  an  old  thing  in  the  world  ?  Is 
it  an  Evolution  from  beneath  or  an  original  gift  from 
heaven?  Did  the  ]\Iin(l,  in  short,  come  down  the  ages 
like  tlie  Body,  and  does  the  mother's  faith  in  tlie  in- 
tellectual unfolding  of  her  l)al^e  include  a  remoter 
origin  for  all  Inunan  faculty?  Let  the  mother  look  at 
her  child  and  answer.     "  It  is  the  very  breath  of  God," 

119 


120  THE  BA  WN  OF  MIND. 


she  says ;  "  this  Child-Life  is  Divine."  And  she  is 
right.  But  let  her  look  again.  That  forehead,  whose 
is  it  ?  It  is  hers.  And  the  frown  wliich  darkened  it 
just  now?  Is  hers  also.  And  that  which  caused  the 
frown  to  darken,  that  something  or  nothing,  behind 
the  forehead,  that  flash  of  pride,  or  scorn,  or  hate? 
Alas,  it  is  her  very  own.  And  as  the  years  roll  on, 
and  the  budding  life  unfolds,  tliere  is  scarcely  a  mood 
or  gesture  or  emotion  that  she  does  not  know  is  bor- 
rowed. But  whence  in  turn  did  she  receive  them  ? 
From  an  earlier  mother.  And  she  ?  From  a  still 
earlier  mother.  And  she  ?  From  the  savage-motlicr 
in  the  woods.     And  the  savage-mother  ? 

Shall  we  hesitate  here  ?  We  well  may.  So  God- 
like a  gift  is  intellect,  so  wondrous  a  thing  is  con- 
sciousness, that  to  link  them  with  tiie  animal  world 
seems  to  trifle  with  the  profoundest  distinctions  in  the 
universe.  Yet  to  associate  these  supersensuous  things 
with  the  animal  kingdom  is  not  to  identify  them  with 
the  animal-body.  Electricity  is  linked  witli  metal 
rods,  it  is  not  therefore  metallic.  Life  is  associated  Avitli 
protoplasm,  it  is  not  therefore  albuminous.  Instinct  is 
linked  with  matter,  but  it  is  not  therefore  material ; 
Intellect  with  animal  matter,  but  is  not  therefore 
animal.  As  we  rise  in  the  scale  of  Nature  we  en- 
counter new  orders  of  phenomena.  Matter,  Life,  Mind, 
each  higher  than  that  before  it,  each  totally  and  for- 
ever dift'erent,  yet  each  using  that  beneath  it  as  the 
pedestal  for  its  further  progress.  Associated  with 
animal-matter — how  associated  no  psychology,  no 
physiology,  no  materialism,  no  spiritualism,  has  even 
yet  begun  to  hint — may  there  not  have  been  from  an 
early  dawn  the  elements  of  a  future  Mind  ?    Do  the 


THE  DA  [rN  OF  MIND.  121 

wide  analogies  of  Nature  not  make  the  suggestion 
worthy  at  least  of  inquiry  ?  The  fact,  to  which  there 
is  no  exception,  that  all  lesser  things  evolve,  the 
suggestion,  which  is  daily  growing  into  a  further  cer- 
tainty, that  there  is  a  mental  evolution  among  animals 
from  the  Coelenterate  to  the  Ape ;  the  fact  that  the 
unfolding  of  the  Child-Mind  is  itself  a  palpable  evolu- 
tion ;  the  infinitely  more  significant  circumstance  that 
the  Mind  in  a  child  seems  to  unfold  in  the  order  in 
which  it  would  unfold  if  its  mental  faculties  were 
received  from  the  Animal  world,  and  in  the  order  in 
which  they  have  already  asserted  themselves  in  the 
history  of  the  race.  These  seem  formidable  facts  on 
the  side  of  those  consistent  evolutionists  who,  in  the 
face  of  countless  difficulties  and  countless  prejudices, 
still  press  the  lawful  inquiry  into  the  development 
of  human  faculty. 

The  first  feeling  in  most  minds  when  the  idea  of 
mental  evolution  is  presented,  is  usually  one  of  amuse- 
ment. This  not  seldom  changes,  when  the  question  is 
seen  to  be  taken  seriously,  into  wonder  at  the  daring 
of  the  suggestion  or  pity  for  its  folly.  All  great  prob- 
lems have  been  treated  hi  this  way.  All  have  passed 
through  the  inevitable  phases  of  laughter,  contempt, 
opposition.  It  ought  to  be  so.  And  if  this  problem  is 
"  perhaps  the  most  interesting  that  has  ever  been  sub- 
mitted to  the  contemplation  of  our  race,"  ^  its  basis 
cannot  be  criticised  with  too  great  care.  But  none 
have  a  right  to  question  either  the  sanity  or  the 
sanctity  of  such  investigations,  still  less  to  dismiss 
them  idly  on  a  priori  grounds,  till  they  have  ap- 
proached the  practical  problem  for  themselves,  and 
1  Romanes,  Mental  Evolution  in  Man,  p.  2. 


122  THE  DAWN  OF  ^HND. 


heard  at  least  the  first  few  relevant  words  from 
Nature.  For  one  has  only  to  move  for  a  little  among 
the  facts  to  see  what  a  world  of  interest  lies  here,  and 
to  be  forced  to  hold  the  judgment  in  suspense  till 
the  sciences  at  work  upon  the  problem  have  further 
shaped  their  verdict.  Thinkers  who  are  entitled  to 
respect  have  even  gone  further.  They  include  mental 
evolution  not  only  among  the  hypotheses  of  Science 
but  among  its  facts  and  its  necessary  facts.  "  Is  it 
conceivable,"  asks  Mr.  Romanes,  "  that  the  human 
mind  can  have  arisen  by  way  of  a  natural  genesis  from 
the  minds  of  the  higher  quadrumana  ?  I  maintain 
that  the  material  now  before  us  is  sufficient  to 
show,  not  only  that  this  is  conceivable,  but  inevi- 
table." 1 

It  is  no  part  of  the  present  purpose  to  discuss  the 
ultimate  origin  or  nature  of  Mind.  Our  subject  is  its 
development.  At  the  present  moment  the  ultimate 
origin  of  Mind  is  as  inscrutable  a  mystery  as  the 
origin  of  Life.  It  is  sometimes  charged  against 
Evolution  that  it  tries  to  explain  everything  and  to 
rob  the  world  of  all  its  problems.  There  does  not 
appear  the  shadow  of  a  hope  that  it  is  about  to  rob 
it  of  this.  On  the  contrary  the  foremost  scientific 
exponents  of  the  theory  of  mental  evolution  are  cease- 
lessly calling  attention  to  the  inscrutable  character  of 
the  element  whose  history  they  attempt  to  trace. 
"On  the  side  of  its  philosophy,"  says  Mr.  Romanes, 
"  no  one  can  have  a  deeper  respect  for  the  problem 
of  self-consciousness  than  I  have ;  for  no  one  can  be 
more  profoundly  convinced  than  I  am  that  the  prob- 
lem on  this  side  does  not  admit  of  solution.  In  other 
1  Op.  cit.,  p.  213. 


THE  TJJ]VX  OF  MLYlj.  123 

words,  so  far  as  this  aspect  of  the  matter  is  concerned, 
I  am  in  complete  agreement  witli  the  most  advanced 
idealist.  I  am  as  far  as  any  one  can  be  from  throwing 
liglit  upon  the  intrinsic  nature  of  the  probable  origin 
of  that  which  I  am  endeavoring  to  trace."  '  Mr.  Darwin 
himself  recoiled  from  a  problem  so  transcendent:  '*I 
have  nothing  to  do  with  the  origin  of  the  mental 
powers,  any  more  than  I  have  with  that  of  life  itself."  ^ 
"  In  what  manner,"  he  elsewhere  writes,  "  the  mental 
powers  were  first  developed  in  the  lowest  oi-ganisms, 
is  as  hopeless  an  inquiry  as  how  life  itself  first 
originated."^ 

Xotwithstanding  his  appreciation  of  the  difficulty 
of  the  ultimate  problem,  jMr.  Darwin  addressetl  his 
Avhole  strength  to  the  question  of  the  Evolution  of 
Mind — the  Evolution  as  distinguished  from  its  origin 
and  nature;  and  in  this  he  has  recently  had  many 
followers,  as  well  as  many  opponents.  Among  the 
latter  stand  the  co-discoverer  with  him  of  Natural 
Selection,  Mr.  Alfred  llussel  Wallace,  and  Mr.  St. 
George  Mivart.  Mr.  Wallace's  opposition,  from  a 
scientific  point  of  view,  is  not  so  hostile,  however,  as 
is  generally  supposed.  While  holding  his  own  view 
as  to  the  origin  of  Mind,  what  he  attacks  in  Mr. 
Darwin's  theory  of  mental  evolution  is,  not  the  de- 
velopment itself,  but  only  the  supposition  that  it 
could  have  been  due  to  Natural  Selection.  JMr.  Wal- 
lace's autliority  is  frequently  quoted  to  show  that  the 
mathematical,  the  musical  and  the  artistic  faculties 
could  not  have  been  evolved,  whereas  all  he  has  really 
emphasized  is  that  "they  could  not  have  been  devel- 

^  Mental  Evolution  in  M(tn,  pp.  194-5. 

^Oriyin  of  Species,  p.  191.  ^Descent  of  Man,  p.  66. 


124  THE  DA  WN  OF  MIND. 

oped  under  the  law  of  Natural  Selection."  ^  In  short, 
the  conclusion  of  ]Mr.  Darwin  which  his  colleague 
found  "not  to  be  supported  by  adequate  evidence,  and 
to  be  directly  opposed  to  many  well-ascertained  facts," 
was -not  a  general  theorem,  but  a  specific  one.  And 
many  will  agree  with  Mr.  Wallace  in  doubting  "  that 
man's  entire  nature  and  all  his  faculties,  whether 
moral,  intellectual,  or  spiritual,  have  been  derived 
from  their  rudiments  in  the  lower  animals,  in  the  same 
manner  and  hij  the  action  of  the  same  general  knrs  as 
his  physical  structure  has  been  derived."  '^ 

The  more  this  problem  has  been  investigated,  the 
difficulties  of  the  whole  field  increase,  and  the  off-hand 
acceptance  of  any  specific  evolution  theory  finds  less 
and  less  encouragement.  No  serious  thinker,  on 
whichever  side  of  the  controversy,  has  succeeded  in 
lessening  to  his  own  mind  the  infinite  distance  be- 
tween the  Mind  of  Man  and  everything  else  in  Nature, 
and  even  the  most  consistent  evolutionists  are  as 
unanimous  as  those  who  oppose  them,  in  their  asser- 
tion of  the  uniqueness  of  the  higher  intellectual 
powers.  The  consensus  of  scientific  opinion  here  is 
extraordinary.  "  I  know  nothing,"  says  Huxley,  in 
the  name  of  biology,  "  and  never  hope  to  know 
anything,  of  the  steps  by  which  the  passage  from 
molecular  movement  to  states  of  consciousness  is 
effected."  ^  "  The  two  things,"  emphasizes  the  physi- 
cist, "are  on  two  utterly  different  platforms,  the 
physical  facts  go  along  by  themselves,  and  the  men- 
tal facts  go  along  by  themselves."  *    "  It  is  all  through 

1  Darwinism,  p.  4G9.  2  l}ji(2,^  p.  451. 

'  Conteniporarij  Reviev},  1871. 

*  Clifford,  Fortnightly  Review,  1874. 


THE  DA  ]VN  OF  MIND.  125 

and  forever  inconceivable,"  protests  the  German 
lihysiologLst,  "  that  a  number  of  atoms  of  Carbon, 
Hydrogen,  Nitrogen,  Oxygen,  and  so  on,  shall  be  other 
than  inditi'erent  as  to  how  they  are  disposed  and  how 
they  move,  how  they  were  disposed  and  how  they 
moved,  how  they  will  be  disposed  and  how  they  will 
be  moved.  It  is  utterly  inconceivable  how  conscious- 
ness shall  arise  from  their  joint  action."  ^  So  im- 
pressed is  even  Mr,  Lloyd  Morgan,  mental  evolutionist 
though  he  be,  with  the  gap  between  the  Minds  of  Man 
and  brute  that  his  language  is  almost  as  strong :  "  I 
for  one  do  not  for  a  moment  question  that  the  mental 
processes  of  man  and  animals  are  alike  products  of 
evolution.  The  power  of  cognizing  relations,  reflection 
and  introspection,  appear  to  me  to  mark  a  new  de- 
parture in  evolution,"  ^  and  "  I  am  not  prepared  to  say 
that  there  is  a  difference  in  kind  between  the  mind  of 
man  and  the  mind  of  a  dog.  This  would  imply  a  dif- 
ference in  origin  or  a  difference  in  the  essential  nature 
of  its  being.  There  is  a  great  and  marked  difference 
in  kind  between  the  material  processes  which  we  call 
physiological  and  the  mental  processes  we  call  psyclii- 
cal.  They  belong  to  wholly  different  ordei'S  of  being. 
I  see  no  reason  for  believing  that  mental  processes  in 
man  differ  thus  hi  kind  from  mental  processes  in  ani- 
mals. But  I  do  think  that  we  have,  in  the  introduc- 
tion of  the  analytic  faculty,  so  definite  and  marked  a 
new  departure  that  we  should  emphasize  it  by  saying 
that  the  faculty  of  perception,  in  its  various  specific 
grades,  differs  genei'ically  from  the  faculty  of  concep- 

1  Du  Bois-Keymond,   Uehcr  die  Grenzen  des  Naturerkennens, 
p.  42. 
-  C.  Lloyd  Moryaii,  JValurc,  ^epl.  1,  1SU2,  p.  417. 


126  THE  DA  WN  OF  MIND. 

tion.  And  believing,  as  I  do,  that  conception  is  be- 
yond tlie  power  of  my  favorite  and  clever  dog,  I  am 
forced  to  believe  that  his  mind  differs  generically  from 
my  own."  ^ 

Should  any  one  feel  it  necessary  either  to  his  view 
of  ]Man  or  of  the  Universe  to  hold  that  a  great  gulf  lies 
here,  it  is  open  to  him  to  cling  to  his  belief.  The  pres- 
ent thesis  is  simply  that  Man  has  ascended.  After  all, 
little  depends  on  whether  the  slope  is  abrupt  or  gentle, 
whether  Man  reaches  the  top  by  a  uniform  flight  or 
has  here  and  there  by  invisible  hands  to  be  carried 
across  a  bridgeless  space.  In  any  event  it  is  Nature's 
staircase.  To  say  that  self-consciousness  has  arisen 
from  sensation,  and  sensation  from  the  function  of  nu- 
trition, let  us  say,  in  the  Mimosa  pudica  or  Sensitive 
Plant,  may  be  right  or  wrong  ;  but  the  error  can  only 
be  serious  wdien  it  is  held  that  that  accounts  either  for 
self-consciousness  or  for  the  transition.  Mimosa  can 
be  defined  in  terms  of  Man ;  but  Man  cannot  be  de- 
lined  in  terms  of  Mimosa.  The  first  is  possible  because 
there  is  the  least  fraction  in  that  which  is  least  in  Man 
of  that  which  is  greatest  in  Mimosa  ;  the  last  is  impos- 
sible because  there  is  nothing  in  Mimosa  of  that  which 
is  greatest  in  Man.  What  the  two  i)ossess  in  connnon, 
or  seem  to  possess,  may  be  a  basis  for  comparison,  for 
what  it  is  worth ;  but  to  include  in  the  comparison  the 
ninety-nine  and  nine-tenths  per  cent,  of  what  is  over 
and  above  tliat  common  fraction  is  by  no  sort  of  rea- 
soning lawful.  Man,  in  the  last  resort,  has  self-con- 
sciousness. Mimosa  sensation  ;  and  the  difference  is 
qualitative  as  well  as  quantitative. 

If,  however,  it  is  a  fallacy  to  ignore  the  (jualitative 
^  C.  Lloyd  Morgan,  Aniiual  Lifv  (nul  Jiilclli'j<j)icc,  p.  ;].30. 


THE  DA  JI'.V  OF  MIX  I).  127 

differences  arising  in  tlie  course  of  tlie  transition,  it 
may  be  a  mistake,  on  the  otlier  liand,  to  make  nothing 
of  tlie  transition.  If  in  tlie  name  of  Science  the 
advocate  of  the  Law  of  Continuity  demands  that  it  be 
rectified,  lie  may  Avell  mal\;e  tlie  attempt.  The  partial 
truth  for  the  present  perhaps  amounts  to  this,  that 
earlier  phases  of  life  exhiliit  imperfect  manifestations 
of  princi[)les  which  in  the  higher  structure  and 
widened  environment  of  later  forms  are  more  fully 
manifested  and  expressed,  yet  are  neither  contained  in 
the  earlier  phases  nor  explained  T)y  them.  At  the 
same  time,  everything  that  enters  into  JMan,  every 
sensation,  emotion,  volition,  enters  with  a  difference,  a 
difference  due  to  the  fact  that  he  is  a  rational  and 
self-conscious  being,  a  difference  therefore  which  no 
emphasis  of  language  can  exaggerate.  The  music 
varies  with  the  ear ;  varies  with  the  soul  behind  the 
ear;  relates  itself  with  all  the  music  that  ear  has  ever 
heard  before;  witli  the  mere  fact  that  what  that  ear 
hears,  it  hears  as  music;  that  it  hears  at  all;  that  it 
knows  that  it  hears.  Man  differs  from  every  other 
product  of  the  evolutionary  })rocess  in  being  able  to 
see  that  it  is  a  process,  in  sharing  and  I'ejoicing  in  its 
unity,  and  in  voluntarily  working  tlirough  the  process 
himself.  If  he  is  pai't  of  it  lie  is  also  more  than  part 
of  it,  since  he  is  at  once  its  spectator,  its  director,  and 
its  critic.  "Even  on  the  hypothesis  of  a  psychic  life 
in  all  matter  we  come  to  an  alteration  indeed,  but  not 
an  abolition,  of  the  contrast  between  body  and  soul. 
Of  course  on  that  hypothesis  they  are  distinguished 
by  no  qualitative  difference  in  their  natures,  but  still 
less  do  they  blend  into  one;  the  one  individual  ruling 
soul  always  remains  facing,  in  an  attitude  of  complete 


128  THE  DA  WN  OF  3IIND. 

isolation,   the   liomogeneons   but    niinistrant   monads, 
the  joint  multitude  of  \\  Inch  forms  the  living  body."  ^ 

^Mth  these  preliminary  cautions,  let  us  turn  for  a 
little  to  the  facts.  The  field  here  is  so  full  of  interest 
in  itself  that  apart  fi'om  its  forming  a  possible  chapter 
in  the  history  of  Man  it  is  worth  a  casual  survey. 

The  difficulty  of  establishing  even  the  general 
question  of  Ascent  is  of  course  obvious.  After  jNIind 
emerged  from  the  animal  state,  for  a  long  time,  and  in 
the  very  nature  of  the  case,  no  record  of  its  progress 
could  come  down  to  us.  The  material  Body  has  left 
its  graduated  impress  upon  the  rocks  in  a  million 
fossil  forms  ;  the  Spirit  of  Man,  at  the  other  extreme 
of  time,  has  traced  its  ascending  curve  on  the  tablets 
of  civilization,  in  the  drama  of  history,  and  in  the 
monuments  of  social  life  ;  but  the  Mind  nmst  have 
risen  into  its  first  prominence  during  a  long,  silent 
and  dateless  interval  which  preceded  the  era  of  monu- 
mental records.  Mind  cannot  be  exhumed  by  Palae- 
ontology or  fully  embalmed  in  unwritten  history,  and 
apart  from  the  analogies  of  Embryology  we  have 
nothing  but  inference  to  guide  ns  until  tlie  time  came 
when  it  was  advanced  enough  to  leave  some  tangible 
register  beliind. 

But  so  far  as  knowledge  is  possible  there  are  miiinly 
five  sources  of  information  with  regard  to  the  past  of 
Mind.  The  first  is  the  Mind  of  a  little  child ;  the 
second  the  Mind  of  lower  animals ;  the  third,  those 
material  witnesses— flints,  weapons,  pottery — to  prim- 
itive states  of  ]\Iind  wliich  are  preserved  in  an- 
thropological museums ;  the  fourth  is  the  Mind  of  a 
Savage ;  and  the  fifth  is  Language. 

^  Lotze,  J\[icroco.'<u)ut<,  p.  1(32. 


THE  DA  WN  OF  MIND.  129 

The  first  source — the  Mind  of  a  little  child — has  just 
been  referred  to.  Mind,  in  Man,  does  not  start  into 
being  fully  ripe.  It  dawns  ;  it  grows  ;  it  mellows  ;  it 
decays.  Tliis  growing  moreover  is  a  gradual  growing, 
an  infinitely  gentle,  never  abrupt  unfolding — the  kind 
of  growing  which  in  every  other  department  of  Nature 
we  are  taught  by  Nature  to  associate  with  an  Evolu- 
tion. If  the  ]Mind  of  the  infant  had  been  evolved,  and 
that  not  from  primeval  Man,  but  from  some  more 
ancient  animal,  it  could  not  to  more  perfection  have 
simulated  the  appearance  of  having  so  come. 

But  tills  is  not  all.  Tlie  Mind  of  a  child  not  only 
grows,  but  grows  in  a  certain  order.  And  the  aston- 
ishing fact  about  that  order  is  tliat  it  is  the  probable 
order  of  evolution  of  tnejital  faculty  as  a  whole.  Where 
Science  gets  that  probable  order  will  be  referred  to  by 
and  by.  Meantime,  simply  note  the  fact  that  not 
only  in  the  maimer  but  in  the  order  of  its  develop- 
ment, the  human  Mind  simulates  a  product  of  Evolu- 
tion. The  Mind  of  a  child,  in  short,  is  to  be  treated  as 
an  unfolding  embrj'-o;  and  just  as  the  embryo  of  the 
body  recapitulates  the  long  life-history  of  all  the 
bodies  that  led  up  to  it,  so  this  subtler  embryo  in 
running  its  course  through  the  swift  years  of  early 
infancy  runs  up  the  psychic  scale  through  which,  as 
evidence  from  another  field  will  show,  JNIind  probably 
evolved.  We  have  seen  also  that  in  the  case  of  the 
body,  each  step  of  progress  in  the  embryo  has  its 
equivalent  either  in  the  bodies  or  in  the  embryos  of 
lower  forms  of  life.  Now  each  phase  of  mental  devel- 
opment in  the  child  is  also  permanently  represented 
by  some  species  among  the  lower  animals,  by  idiots, 
ni-  by  the  Mind  of  some  existing  savage. 
■9 


130  THE  DA  WN  OF  3IINB. 

Let  us  turn,  however,  to  tlie  second  source  of  infor- 
mation— Mind  in  the  lower  Animals. 

That  animals  have  "Minds"  is  a  fact  which  prob- 
ably no  one  now  disputes.  Stories  of  "  Animal  Intelli- 
gence" and  "  Animal  Sagacity  "  in  dogs  and  bees  and 
ants  and  elephants  and  a  hundred  other  creatures 
have  been  told  us  from  childhood  with  redundant  re- 
iteration. The  old  protest  that  animals  have  no  Mind 
but  only  instinct  has  lost  its  point.  In  addition  to 
instincts,  animals  betray  intelligence,  and  often  a 
high  degree  of  intelligence ;  they  share  our  feelings 
and  emotions;  they  have  memories;  they  form  per- 
cepts ;  they  invent  new  ways  of  satisfying  their 
desires,  they  learn  by  experience.  It  is  true  their 
Minds  want  much,  and  all  that  is  highest;  but  the 
point  is  that  they  actually  have  Minds,  whatever  their 
quantity  and  wdiatever  their  quality.^  If  abstraction, 
as  Locke  says,  "  is  an  excellency  which  the  faculties  of 
brutes  do  by  no  means  attain  to,"  we  cannot  on  that 
account  deny  them  JMind,  but  only  tliat  height  of 
Mind  which  men  have,  and  which  Evolution  would 
never  look   for  in   any   living    thing   but  Man.     An 

^  As  to  the  exact  point  of  the  difference,  Mr.  Romanes  draws 
the  line  at  the  exclusive  possession  by  Man  of  the  power  of  intro- 
spective reflection  in  the  light  of  self-consciousness.  "  Wherein," 
he  aslcs,  "  does  tlie  distinction  truly  consist  ?  It  consists  in  the 
power  which  the  human  being  displays  of  objectifying  ideas,  or  of 
setting  one  state  of  mind  before  another  state,  and  contemplatiiig 
the  relation  between  them.  The  ijower  to  think  is — or,  as  I 
should  prefer  to  state  it,  the  power  to  think  at  all — is  the  power 
which  is  given  by  introspective  reflection  in  the  light  of  self-con- 
sciousness. .  .  .  We  have  no  evidence  to  show  that  any 
animal  is  capable  of  thus  objectifying  its  own  ideas  ;  and,  there- 
fore, we  have  no  evidence  that  any  animal  is  capable  of  judg- 


THE  DA  WN  OF  MIND.  131 

Evolutionist  Avould  no  more  expect  to  find  the  higher 
rational  characteristics  in  a  wolf  or  a  bear  than  to 
unearth  the  modern  turbine  from  a  Roman  aqueduct. 

Tliougli  tlie  possession  even  of  a  few  rudiments 
of  Mind  by  animals  is  a  sufficient  starting  point  for 
Mental  Evolution,  to  say  that  they  liave  only  a  few 
rudiments  is  to  understate  the  facts.  But  we  know  so 
little  what  ^lind  is  that  speculation  in  this  region  can 
only  be  done  in  the  rough.  On  one  hand  lies  the 
danger  of  minimizing  tremendous  distinctions,  on  the 
other,  of  pretending  to  know  all  about  these  distinc- 
tions, because  we  have  learned  to  call  them  by  certain 
names.  Mind,  when  we  come  to  see  what  it  is,  may 
be  one;  perhaps  must  be  one.  The  habit  of  uncon- 
sciously regarding  the  powers  and  faculties  of  Mind  as 
separate  entities,  like  the  organs  of  the  body,  has  its 
risks  as  well  as  its  uses ;  and  we  cannot  too  often 
remind  ourselves  that  this  is  a  mere  device  to  facili- 
tate thought  and  speech. 

It  is  mainly  to  Mr.  Romanes  that  we  owe  the  work- 
ing out  of  the  evidence  in  this  connection  ;  and  even 
though  his  researches  be  little  more  than  a  prelimi- 
nary exploration,  their  general  results  are  striking. 
Realizing  that   the   most   scientific   way  to    discover 

ment.  Indeed,  I  will  go  further  and  affirm  tliat  we  have  the  hest 
evidence  which  is  derivable  from  what  are  necessarily  ejective 
sources,  to  prove  that  no  animal  can  possibly  attain  to  these 
excellencies  of  subjective  life."  Mr.  Romanes  proceeds  to  state 
the  reason  why.  It  is  because  of  "  the  absence  in  brutes  of  the 
needful  conditions  to  the  occurrence  of  those  excellencies  as  they 
obtain  in  themselves  .  .  .  the  great  distinction  between  the 
brute  and  the  man  really  lies  behind  the  faculties  both  of  concep- 
tion and  prediction  ;  it  resides  in  the  conditions  to  tbe  occurrence 
of  either." — Mrnful  Erolnttnn  in  AniDinls,    p.    IT"*. 


132 


THE  DA  WN  OF  MIND. 


whether  there  are  any  affinities  between  IMind  in  Ani- 
mals and  Mind  in  Man  is  to  compare  the  one  with  the 
other,  he  began  a  hiborious  study  of  tlie  Animal 
world.  His  conclusions  are  contained  in  "Animal 
Intelligence"  and  "JNIental  Evolution  in  Animals  " — 
volumes  which  no  one  can  read  without  being  con- 
vinced at  least  of  the  thoroughness  and  fairness  of  the 
investigation.  That  abundant  traces  were  found  of 
Mind  in  the  lower  animals  goes  without  saying.  But 
the  range  of  mental  phenomena  discovered  there  may 
certainly  excite  surprise.  Thus,  to  consider  only  one 
set  of  phenomena — that  of  the  emotions — all  the  fol- 
lowing products  of  emotional  development  are  repre- 
sented at  one  stage  or  another  of  animal  life  : 


Fear 

Surprise 

Affectiox 

pugxacity 

Curiosity 

Jealousy 

Axger 

Play 

Sympathy 


Emulation 
Pride 

Resentment 
Emotion  of  the 

Beautiful 
Grief 
Hate 
Cruelty' 


liENEVOLENOE 

Revenge 
Rage 
Shame 
Regret 
Deceitfulness 
Emotion  of  the 
Ludicrous 


But  this  list  is  something  more  than  a  bare  cata- 
logue of  what  human  emotions  exist  in  the  animal 
world.  It  is  an  arranged  catalogue,  a  more  or  less 
definite  psychological  scale.  These  emotions  did  not 
only  appear  in  animals,  but  they  appeared  in  this 
order.  Now  to  find  out  order  in  Evolution  is  of  first 
importance.  For  order  of  events  is  history,  and  Evo- 
lution is  history.      In  creatures  very  far  down  the 


TUE  DAWN  OF  MIND.  133 

scale  of  life — the  Annelids — Mr.  Romanes  distin- 
guished what  appeared  to  him  to  be  one  of  the  earliest 
emotions — Fear.  Somewhat  higher  up,  among  the 
Insects,  he  met  with  the  Social  Feelings,  as  well  as 
Industry,  Pugnacity,  and  Curiosity.  Jealousy  seems 
to  have  been  born  into  the  world  with  Fishes ;  Sym- 
pathy with  Birds.  The  Carnivora  are  responsible  for 
Cruelty,  Hate,  and  Grief  ;  the  Anthropoid  Apes  for 
Remorse,  Shame,  the  Sense  of  the  Ludicrous,  and 
Deceit. 

Now,  when  we  compare  this  table  Avith  a  similar 
table  compiled  from  a  careful  study  of  the  emotional 
states  in  a  little  child,  two  striking  facts  appear.  In 
the  first  place,  there  are  almost  no  emotions  in  the 
child  which  are  not  here — this  list,  in  shoi't,  practi- 
cally exhausts  the  list  of  human  emotions.  With  the 
exception  of  the  religious  feelings,  the  moral  sense, 
and  the  perception  of  the  sublime,  there  is  nothing 
found  even  in  adult  IMan  which  is  not  represented 
with  more  or  less  vividness  in  the  Animal  Kingdom. 
But  this  is  not  all.  These  emotions,  as  already 
hinted,  appear  in  the  Mind  of  the  growing  child  in  the 
same  order  as  they  appear  on  the  animal  scale.  At 
three  weeks,  for  instance,  Fear  is  perceptibly  manifest 
in  a  little  child.  When  it  is  seven  weeks  old  the 
Social  Affections  dawn.  At  twelve  weeks  emerges 
Jealousy,  with  its  companion  Anger.  Sympathy  ap- 
pears after  five  months ;  Pride,  Resentment,  Love  of 
Ornament,  after  eight ;  Shame,  Remorse,  and  Sense  of 
the  Ludicrous  after  fifteen.  These  dates,  of  course, 
do  not  indicate  in  any  mechanical  way  the  birthdays 
of  emotions ;  they  re[)resent  rather  stages  in  an  infi- 
nitely  gentle   mental   ascent,  stages   nevertheless  so 


134  THE  DA  \VX  OF  MISD. 

marked  that  we  are  able  to  give  them  names,  and  use 
them  as  hmdmarks  in  psychogenesis.  Yet  taken  even 
as  representing  a  rougli  order  it  is  a  circumstance  to 
which  some  significance  must  be  attached  that  the 
tree  of  Mind  as  we  know  it  in  lower  Nature,  and  the 
tree  of  Mind  as  we  know  it  in  a  little  child,  should  be 
the  same  tree,  starting  its  roots  at  the  same  place,  and 
though  by  no  means  ending  its  branches  at  the  same 
level,  at  least  growing  them  so  far  in  a  parallel  direc- 
tion. 

Do  we  read  these  emotions  into  the  lower  animals 
or  are  they  really  there  '?  That  they  are  not  there  in 
the  sense  in  which  we  think  them  there  is  probably 
certain.  But  that  they  are  there  in  some  sense,  a 
sense  sufficient  to  permit  us  cautiously  to  reason 
from,  seems  an  admissible  hypothesis.  No  doubt  it 
takes  much  for  granted, — partly,  indeed,  the  very 
thing  to  be  proved.  But  discounting  even  the  enor- 
mous lindtations  of  the  inquir}^  there  is  surely  a 
]-esiduum  of  general  restdt  to  make  it  at  least  worth 
making. 

If  we  turn  from  emotional  to  intellectual  develop- 
ment, the  pai'allelism  though  much  more  faint  is  at 
least  shadowed.  Again  we  find  a  list  of  intellectual 
products  common  to  both  Animal  and  Man,  and,  again 
an  approximate  order  common  to  both.  It  is  true, 
Man's  development  beyond  the  highest  point  attained 
by  any  animal  in  the  region  of  the  intellect,  is  all  but 
infinite.  Of  rational  judgment  he  has  the  M'hole  mo- 
nopoly. Wherever  the  roots  of  Mind  be,  there  is  no 
micertainty  as  to  where,  and  where  exclusively,  the 
higher  branches  are.  Grant  that  the  mental  faculties 
of  Man  and  Animal  part  company  at  a  point,  there 


THE  LAWN  OF  MIX n.  135 


remains  to  consider  tlie  vast  distance — in  tlie  case  of 
the  emotions  almost  the  whole  distance — where  they 
run  parallel  with  one  another.  Comparative  psy- 
chology is  not  so  advanced  a  science  as  comparative 
embryology  ;  yet  no  one  who  has  felt  the  force  of  tl)e 
recapitulation  argument  for  the  evolution  of  bodily 
function,  even  making  all  allowances  for  tlie  differ- 
ences of  the  things  compared,  will  deny  the  weight  of 
the  corresponding  argument  for  the  evolution  of  3Iind. 
Why  should  the  Mind  thus  recapitulate  in  its  devel- 
opment the  psychic  life  of  animals  unless  some  vital 
link  connected  them  ? 

A  singular  complement  to  this  argument  has  been 
suggested  recently — though  as  yet  only  in  the  form'' 
of  the  vaguest  hint — from  the  side  of  Mental  Pathol- 
ogy. When  the  Mind  is  affected  by  certain  diseases, 
its  progress  downward  can  often  be  followed  step  by 
step.  It  does  not  tumble  down  in  a  moment  into 
chaos  like  a  house  of  cards,  but  iii  a  definite  order, 
stone  by  stone,  or  story  by  story.  Now  the  striking 
thing  about  tliat  order  is,  that  it  is  the  probable  order 
in  which  the  building  has  gone  up.  The  order  of 
descent,  in  short,  is  the  inverse  of  the  order  of  ascent. 
The  first  faculty  to  go,  in  many  cases  of  insanity,  is 
tl)e  last  faculty  which  arrived;  the  next  faculty  is 
affected  next ;  the  whole  spring  uncoiling  as  it  wore 
in  the  order  and  direction  in  which,  presumably,  it 
had  been  wound  np.  Sometimes  even  in  the  phe- 
nomenon of  old  age  the  cycle  may  be  clearly  traced. 
"Just  as  consciousness  is  slowly  evolved  out  of  vege- 
tative life,  so  is  it,  through  the  infirmities  of  old  age, 
the  gradual  ajiproach  of  death,  and  in  advanced  men- 
tal disease,  again  resolved  into  it.     The  highest,  most 


136  THE  DA  U'N  OF  MIXD. 

differentiated  plienoniena  of  consciousness  are  tlie  first 
to  give  way  ;  impulse,  instinct,  and  reflex  movements 
become  again  predominant.  Tlie  plirase  '  to  grow 
childish '  expresses  the  resemblance  between  the  first 
stage  and  the  stage  of  dissolution."  ^ 

That  the  highest  part  of  man  should  totter  first  is 
what,  on  the  theory  of  mental  evolution,  one  would 
already  have  expected.  The  highest  part  is  the  latest 
added  part,  and  the  latest  added  part  is  the  least 
secured  part.  As  the  last  arrival,  it  is  not  yet  at 
home ;  it  has  not  had  time  to  get  lastingly  embedded 
in  the  brain ;  the  competition  of  older  faculties  is 
against  it ;  the  hold  of  the  will  upon  it  is  slight  and 
fitful ;  its  tenure  as  a  tenant  is  precarious  and  often 
threatened.  Among  the  older  and  more  permanent 
residents,  therefore,  it  has  little  chance.  Hence  if 
anything  goes  wrong,  as  the  last  added,  the  most  com- 
plex, the  least  automatic  of  all  the  functions,  it  is  the 
first  to  suffer. 

We  are  but  too  familiar  with  cases  where  men  of 
lofty  intellect  and  women  of  most  pure  mind,  seized 
in  the  awful  grasp  of  madness,  are  transformed  in 
a  few  brief  months  into  beings  Avorse  than  brutes. 
ITow  are  we  to  account,  on  any  other  principle  than 
this,  for  that  most  shocking  of  all  catastrophes  the 
sudden  and  total  bi'eak-up,  the  devolution,  of  a  saint? 
That  the  wise  man  should  become  a  chattering  idiot  is 
inexplicable  enough,  but  that  the  saintly  soul  should 
fiot  in  blasphemy  and  immorality  so  foul  that  not 
iamong  the  lowest  races  is  there  anything  to  liken  to 
it — these  are  phenomena  so  staggering  that  if  Evolu- 
tion hold  any  key  to  them  at  all,  its  suggestion  must 
'  Hoffding,  Pyscholociy,  p,  92, 


THE  DA  U'N  OF  MIND.  137 

come  as  at  least  a  partial  relief  to  the  human  mind. 
These  are  possibly  cases  of  actual  reversion,  cases 
where  all  the  beautiful  later  buildiny,'s  of  humanity 
had  been  swept  away  and  only  tlie  elemental  brute 
foundations  left.  Devolution  is  thus  assumed  to  be 
a  co-relative  of  Evolution.  And  as  the  morbid  states 
of  the  Mind  are  more  and  more  studied  in  this  rela- 
tion, it  may  yet  be  possible  from  the  phenomena 
of  insanity  to  lay  bare  to  some  extent  the  outline 
of  intellectual  ascent.  In  the  present  state  both  of 
psychology,  and  especially  of  our  knowledge  of  the 
brain,  nothing  probably  could  be  more  precarious  than 
this  as  an  argument.  The  very  statement  involves 
modes  of  expression  which  exact  science  would  rule 
out  of  court.  The  best  that  can  be  said  is  that  it 
is  a  suggestion  awaiting  further  light  before  it  can 
even  rank  as  a  theory.  Complex  as  the  source  of 
knowledge  is,  the  Mind  itself  nuist  ever  be  the  final 
authority  on  its  own  biogra[)hy.  Analogy  from  lower 
nature  may  do  nuich  to  confirm  the  reading ;  the 
mental  history  of  the  human  race,  from  the  rudi- 
ments of  intellect  in  the  savage  to  its  development 
in  civilized  life,  may  contribute  some  closing  chajv 
ters ;  but  unless  the  Mind  tell  its  own  story  it  will 
never  l)e  fully  told.  Yet  should  it  ever  thus  be 
told,  the  mystery  of  Mind  itself  would  remain  the 
same.  For  the  most  this  could  do  would  be  to  replace 
one  mystery  by  a  greater.  For  what  greater  mystery 
could  there  be  than  that  within  the  mystery  of  the 
]Mind  itself  there  should  lie  concealed  the  very  key  to 
unlock  its  mystery  ? 

To  pass  from  this  fascinating  region  to  the  material 
contributions  jf  Anthropology  is  a  somewhat  abrupt 


138  THE  pA  \VM  OF  MIND. 


transition.  But  this  third  line  of  approach  to  a 
knowledge  of  the  earlier  phases  of  JVIind  need  not 
detain  us  long. 

So  patient  has  been  the  search  over  almost  the 
whole  world  for  relics  of  jDre-historic  Man,  that  vast 
collections  are  now  everywhere  available  where  tlie 
arts,  industries,  weapons,  and,  by  inference,  the  men- 
tal development,  of  tlie  earlier  inhabitants  of  this 
planet  can  be  practically  studied.  On  the  two  main 
points  at  issue  in  the  discussion  of  mental  evolution 
these  collections  are  unanimous.  They  reveal  in  the 
first  instance,  traces  of  jNIind  of  a  very  low  order  exist- 
ing from  an  unknown  antiquity  ;  and  in  the  second 
place,  they  show  a  gradual  improving  of  this  jNIind  as 
we  approach  the  present  day.  It  may  be  that  in  some 
cases  the  evidence  suggests  a  degenerating  rather 
than  an  ascending  civilization  ;  but  perturbations  of 
tliis  sort  do  not  affect  tlie  main  question,  nor  neu- 
tralize tlie  other  facts.  Evolution  is  constantly  con- 
fronted with  statements  as  to  the  former  glory  of  now 
decadent  nations,  as  if  that  were  an  argument  against 
the  theory.  Granting  that  nations  have  degenerated, 
it  still  remains  to  account  for  that  from  which  they 
degenerated.  That  Egypt  has  fallen  from  a  great 
height  is  certain ;  but  the  real  problem  is  how  it  got 
to  that  height.  When  a  boy's  kite  descends  in  our 
garden,  we  do  not  assume  that  it  came  from  the 
clouds.  That  it  went  up  before  it  came  down  is 
obvious  from  all  that  we  know  of  kite-making.  And 
that  nations  went  up  before  tliey  came  down  is  ob- 
vious from  all  that  we  know  of  nation-making.  The 
gravitation,  moreover,  which  brings  down  nations  is 
just  as   real  as   the  gravitation   which  brings   down 


THE  DA  WN  OF  MISD.  139 


kites;  and  instead  of  a  falling  nation  being-  a  stum- 
bling block  to  Evolution,  it  is  a  necessity  of  the  theory. 
The  degeneration  and  extinction  of  the  iinht  are  as 
infallibly  brought  about  by  natural  laws  as  the  sur- 
vival of  the  fit.  Evolution  is  by  no  means  synony- 
mous with  uninterrupted  progress,  but  at  every  turn 
means  relapse,  extinction,  and  decay. 

It  is  pretty  clear  that,  applying  the  old  Argument 
from  Design  to  the  case  of  the  most  ancient  human 
relics,  Man  began  the  Ascent  of  Civilization  at  zei'o. 
There  has  been  a  time  in  the  history  of  every  nation 
when  the  only  supplements  to  the  organs  of  the  body 
for  the  uses  of  Man  Avere  the  stones  of  the  field  and 
the  sticks  of  the  forest.  To  use  these  natural,  abun- 
dant, and  portable  objects,  was  an  obvious  resource 
with  early  tribes.  If  Mind  dawned  in  the  past  at  all, 
it  is  with  such  objects  that  we  should  expect  its  first 
associations,  and  as  a  matter  of  fact  it  seems  every- 
where to  have  been  so.  Relics  of  a  Stick  Age  would 
of  course  be  obliterated  by  time,  but  traces  of  a  Stone 
Age  have  been  found,  not  in  connection  with  the  first 
beginnings  of  a  few  tribes  only,  but  with  the  first 
beginnings — from  the  point  that  any  representation 
is  possible — of  probably  every  nation  in  the  world. 
The  wide  geographical  use  of  stone  implements  is 
one  of  the  most  striking  facts  in  Anthropology, 
Instead  of  being  confined  to  a  few  peoples,  and  to 
outlying  districts,  as  is  sometimes  asserted,  their  dis- 
tribution is  univei'sal.  They  are  found  tln'oughont 
the  length  and  breadth  of  Europe,  and  on  all  its 
islands;  they  occur  everywhere  in  Westei'ii  ^\sia,  and 
north  of  the  Himalayas.  In  the  Malay  Peninsula  they 
strew  the  ground  in   endless  numbers  ;  and  again,  in 


140  THE  DA  WN  OF  MIND. 

Australia,  New  Zealand,  Xew  Caledonia,  the  New 
llebi-ides,  and  tlie  Coral  Islands  of  the  Pacific. 
Known  in  China,  they  are  scattered  hroad-cast 
throughout  Japan,  and  the  same  is  true  of  America, 
Mexico,  and  Peru.  If  a  child  playin;^  with  a  toy 
spade  is  a  proof  that  it  is  a  child,  a  nation  working 
with  stone  axes  is  proved  to  be  a  child-nation.  Er- 
roneous conclusions  may  easily  be  drawn,  and  indeed 
have  been,  from  the  fact  of  a  nation  using  stone,  but 
the  general  law  stands.  Partly,  perhaps,  by  mutual 
intercourse,  this  use  of  stone  became  universal;  but  it 
arose,  more  likely,  from  the  similarity  in  primitive 
needs,  and  the  available  means  of  gratifying  them. 
Living  under  widely  different  conditions,  and  in  every 
variety  of  climate,  all  early  peoples  shared  the  in- 
stincts of  humanity  which  first  called  in  the  use  of 
tools  and  weapons.  All  felt  the  same  hunger;  all  had 
the  instinct  of  self-preservation;  and  the  universality 
of  these  histincts  and  the  commonness  of  stone  led 
the  groping  Mind  to  fasten  upon  it,  and  make  it  one 
of  the  first  steps  to  the  Arts.  A  Stone  Age,  thus,  was 
the  natural  beginning.  In  the  nature  of  tilings  there 
could  have  been  no  earlier.  If  Mind  really  grew  by 
infinitely  gradual  ascents,  the  exact  situation  the 
theory  requires  is  here  provided  in  actual  fact. 

The  next  step  from  the  Stone  Age,  so  far  as  further 
appeal  to  ancient  implements  can  guide  us,  is  also 
exactly  what  one  would  expect.  It  is  to  a  better  Stone 
Age.  Two  distinct  grades  of  stone  implements  are 
found,  the  rough  and  the  smooth,  or  the  unground 
and  the  gi'ound.  For  a  long  period  the  idea  never 
seems  to  have  dawned  that  a  smooth  stone  made  a 
better  axe  tlian  a  rough  one.     Mind  was  as  yet  un- 


THE  DAWN  OF  MINI).  141 

equal  to  this  small  discovery,  and  there  are  vast 
remains  representing  long"  intervals  of  time  where  all 
the  stone  implements  and  tools  are  of  the  unground 
type.  Even  when  the  hour  did  come,  when  savage 
vied  with  savage  in  putting  the  finest  polish  on  his 
flints,  his  inspiration  probahly  came  from  Nature. 
The  first  lapidary  was  the  sea ;  the  smoothed  pebble 
on  the  beach,  or  the  rounded  stone  of  the  mountain 
stream,  supplied  the  pattern.  There  is  no  question 
that  the  rough  stone  came  earlier  than  the  ground 
stone.  Thus  the  implements  of  the  Drift  Period, 
those  of  the  Danish  Mounds,  the  Bone  Caves,  and  the 
gravels  of  St.  AcLeul  are  mostly  unground,  wliile 
those  of  tlie  later  Lake-Dwellers  are  almost  wholly  of 
the  smooth  type. 

To  follow  the  Stone  Age  upward  into  the  IJronze 
Period,  and  from  that  to  the  Age  of  Iron  is  not  neces- 
sary for  the  present  purpose.  For  at  this  point  the 
order  of  succession  passes  from  shell-mound  and 
crannog,  into  living  hands.  There  arc  nations  witli 
us  still  who  have  climbed  so  short  a  distance  up  the 
psychic  scale  as  to  be  still  in  the  Age  of  Stone — • 
peoples  whose  mental  culture  and  habits  are  often 
actual  witnesses  to  the  mental  states  of  early  Man. 
These  children  of  Nature  take  up  the  thread  of  mental 
progress  where  the  Troglodyte  and  Drift- Man  left  it; 
and  the  modern  traveller,  starting  from  the  civili- 
zation of  Europe  can  follow  JVIind  downwards  step  by 
step,  in  ever  descending  order,  ti'acing  its  shadings 
backwards  to  a  first  simplicity  till  he  finds  himself 
with  the  still  living  Lake-dweller  of  Nyasaland  or 
the  iJushman  of  the  African  forest.  Time  was  when 
these   humble  tribes,  with   their  strange  and  artless 


142  rilE  DA  Wy  OF  MIND. 

ways,  were  mere  food  for  the  curious.  Now  the 
study  of  the  lower  native  races  has  risen  to  the  first 
rank  in  comparative  psychology  ;  and  the  student  of 
beginnings,  whether  they  be  the  beginnings  of  Art 
or  of  Ethics,  of  Language  or  of  Letters,  of  Law  or  of 
Religion,  goes  to  seek  the  roots  of  his  science  in  the 
Ways,  traditions,  faiths,  and  institutions  of  savage 
life. 

This  leads  us,  however,  to  th.e  fourth  of  the  sources 
from  whicli  we  were  to  gather  a  hint  or  two  with 
regard  to  the  past  of  Mind — the  savage.  No  one 
should  pronounce  upon  the  Evolution  of  Mind  till 
he  has  seen  a  savage.  By  this  is  not  meant  the 
show  savage  of  an  Australian  town,  or  the  quay 
Kaffir  of  a  South  African  poi-t,  or  the  Keservation 
Lidian  of  a  Western  State  ;  but  tlie  savage  as  he  is 
in  reality,  and  as  he  may  be  seen  to-day  by  any  who 
care  to  look  upon  so  weird  a  spectacle.  No  study 
from  the  life  can  compare  with  this  in  interest  or  in 
pathos,  nor  stir  so  many  strange  emotions  in  the 
mind  of  a  thoughtful  man.  To  sit  M-ith  this  incal- 
culable creature  in  the  heart  of  the  great  forest ;  to 
live  with  him  in  his  natural  home  as  the  guest  of 
Nature,  to  watch  his  ways  and  moods  and  try  to 
resolve  the  ceaseless  mystery  of  his  thoughts — this, 
whether  the  existing  savage  represents  the  primitive 
savage  or  not,  is  to  open  one  of  the  workshops  of 
Creation  and  behold  the  half-finished  product  from 
which  humanity  has  been  evolved. 

The  world  is  getting  old,  but  the  traveller  who 
cares  to  follow  the  daybreak  of  Mind  for  himself  can 
almost  do  so  still.  Selecting  a  region  where  the 
wand    of   western   civilization    has    scarcely   reached, 


THE  DA  WN  OF  MINI).  143 

let  him  begin  with  a  cruise  in  the  Malay  Archipelago 
or  in  the  Coral  Seas  of  the  Southern  Pacific.  He  may 
find  himself  there  even  yet  on  spots  on  which  no 
white  foot  has  ever  trod,  on  islands  where  unknown 
races  have  worked  out  their  destiny  for  untold  cent- 
uries, whose  teeming  2)eoples  have  no  name,  and 
whose  habits  and  mode  of  life  are  only  known  to  the 
outer  world  througli  a  shi[)'s  telescope.  As  he  coasts 
along,  he  will  see  the  dusky  figures  steal  like  shades 
among  the  trees,  or  hurry  past  in  their  bark  canoes, 
or  crouch  in  fear  upon  the  coral  sand.  He  can  watch 
them  gather  the  bread-fruit  from  the  tree  and  pull 
the  cocoa-nut  from  the  palm  and  root  out  the  taro 
for  a  meal  which,  all  the  year  round  and  all  the 
centuries  through,  has  never  changed.  In  an  hour 
or  two  he  can  compass  almost  the  whole  round  of 
their  simple  life,  and  realize  the  gulf  between  himself 
and  them  'in  at  least  one  way — in  the  utter  im- 
possibility of  framing  to  himself  an  image  of  the 
mental  world  of  men  and  women  whose  only  world 
is  this. 

Let  him  pass  on  to  the  coast  of  Xorthern  Queens- 
land, and,  landing  where  fear  of  the  white  man  makes 
landing  possible,  penetrate  the  Australian  bush. 
Though  the  settlements  of  the  European  have  been, 
there  for  a  generation,  he  will  find  the  child  of 
Nature  still  untouched,  and  neither  by  intercourse 
nor  imitation  removed  by  one  degree  fi'om  the  lowest 
savage  state.  These  aboriginal  peoples  know  neither 
house  nor  home.  They  neither  sow  nor  reap.  Their 
weapons  are  those  of  Nature,  a  pointed  stick 
and  a  knotted  club.  They  live  like  wild  things  on 
roots     and    berries    and    birds    and    wallabies,    and 


144  THE  DA  WN  OF  ML\D. 


in  the  monotony  of  theii'  life  and  the  uncouthness  oi 
their  Mind  represent  almost  the  lowest  level  of  hu- 
manity.^ 

From  these  rudiments  of  mankind  let  him  make  his 
way  to  the  New  Hebrides,  to  Tana,  and  Santo,  and 
Ambrym,  and  Aurora.  These  islands,  besides  Man, 
contain  only  three  things,  coral,  lava,  and  trees.  Un- 
til but  yesterday  their  peoples  had  never  seen  any- 
thing but  coral,  lava,  and  trees.  They  did  not  know 
that  there  was  anything  else  in  the  world.  One  hun- 
dred years  ago  Captain  Cook  discovered  these  island- 
ers and  gave  them  a  few  nails.  They  planted  them  in 
the  ground  that  they  might  grow  into  bigger  nails. 
It  is  true  that  in  other  lands  a  very  rich  life  and  a 
very  wide  world  could  be  made  out  of  no  more  varied 
materials  than  coral,  lava  and  trees;  but  on  these 
Tropical  Islands  Nature  is  disastrously  kind.  All 
that  her  children  need  is  provided  for  them  ready- 
made.  ITer  sun  shines  on  them  so  that  they  are  never 
either  cold  or  hot ;  she  provides  crops  for  them  in  un- 
exampled luxuriance,  and  arranges  the  year  to  be  one 
long  harvest;  she  allows  no  wild  animals  to  prowl 
among  the  forest;  and  surrounding  them  with  the 
alienating  sea  she  preserves  them  from  the  attacks  of 
human  enemies.  Outside  the  struggle  for  life,  they 
are  out  of  life  itself.  Treated  as  children,  they  re- 
main children.     To  look  at  them  now  is  to  recall  the 

^  The  situation  is  dramatic,  that  from  end  to  end  of  the  region 
occupied  by  these  tribes,  there  stretches  the  Telegrapli  connect- 
ing Australia  with  Europe.  But  what  is  at  once  dramatic  and 
pathetic  is  that  the  natives  know  it  only  in  its  material  relations 
— as  so  much  wire,  the  first  metal  they  have  ever  seen,  to  cut 
into  lengths  for  spear-heads. 


THE  DAWJ^  OF  MINT).  145 

long  holiday  of  the  childhood  of  the  world.  It  is  to 
behold  one's  ntituval  face  in  a  glass. 

Pass  on  through  the  other  Cannibal  Islands  and, 
apart  from  the  improvement  of  weapons  and  the  con- 
struction of  a  hut,  throughout  vast  regions  there  is 
still  no  sign  of  mental  progress.  But  before  one  has 
completed  the  circuit  of  the  Pacific  the  change  begins 
to  come.  Gradually  there  appear  the  beginnings  of 
industry  and  even  of  art.  In  the  Solomon  Group  and 
in  New  Guinea,  carving  and  painting  may  be  seen  in 
an  early  infancy.  The  canoes  are  large  and  good,  fish- 
hooks are  manufactured  and  weaving  of  a  rude  kind 
has  been  established.  There  can  be  no  question  at 
this  stage  that  the  Mind  of  Man  has  begun  its  upward 
path.  And  what  now  begins  to  impress  one  is  not  the 
poverty  of  the  early  Mind,  but  the  enormous  poten- 
tialities that  lie  within  it,  and  the  exceeding  swiftness 
of  its  Ascent  towards  higher  things.  When  the  Sand- 
wich Islands  are  reached,  the  contrast  appears  in  its 
full  significance.  Here,  a  century  ago,  Captain  Cook, 
through  wliom  the  first  knowledge  of  their  existence 
reached  the  outer  world,  was  killed  and  eaten.  To- 
day the  children  of  his  murderers  have  taken  their 
place  among  the  civilized  nations  of  the  world,  and 
their  Kings  and  Queens  demand  acknowledgment  at 
modern  Courts. 

Books  have  been  given  to  the  world  on  the  Mind  of 
animals.  It  is  strange  that  so  little  should  have  been 
Avritten  specifically  on  the  Mind  of  the  savage.  But 
though  this  living  mine  has  not  yet  been  drawn  upon 
for  its  last"  contril)ution  to  science,  facts  to  suggest 
and  sustain  a  theory  of  mental  evolution  are  every- 
where abundant.  Waiving  iiidividr.al  cases  where 
10 


146  THE  DA  ]VN  OF  MLXD. 


nations  have  fallen  from  a  higher  intellectual  level  the 
proof  indicates  a  rising  potentiality  and  widening  of 
range  as  we  pass  from  primitive  to  civilized  states.  It 
is  open  to  debate  whether  during  the  historic  period 
mere  intellectual  advance  has  been  considerable, 
whether  more  penetrating  or  commandhig  intellects 
have  ever  appeared  than  those  of  Jol),  Isaiah,  Plato, 
Shakspeare.  But  that  is  matter  of  yesterday. 
What  concerns  us  now  to  note  is  that  the  Mind  of 
Man  as  a  whole  has  had  a  slow  and  gradual  dawn  ; 
that  it  has  existed,  and  exists  to-day,  among  certain 
tribes  at  almost  the  lowest  point  of  development  with 
which  the  Avord  human  can  be  associated ;  and  that 
from  that  point  an  Ascent  of  Mind  can  be  traced  from 
tribe  to  nation  in  an  ever  increasing  complexity  and 
through  infinitely  delicate  shades  of  improvement,  till 
the  highest  civilized  states  are  reached.  In  the  very 
nature  of  things  we  should  have  expected  such  a  re- 
sult. For  this  is  not  only  a  question  of  faculty.  In 
a  far  more  intimate  sense  than  we  are  apt  to  imagine, 
it  is  a  question  of  a  gradually  evolving  environment. 
Every  infinitesimal  enrichment  of  the  soil  for  Mind  to 
grow  in  meant  an  infinitesimal  enrichment  of  the 
Mind  itself.  "  It  needs  but  to  ask  Avhat  would  hnppen 
to  ourselves  were  the  whole  mass  of  existing  knowl- 
edge obliterated,  and  were  child/en  with  nothing  be- 
yond their  nursery-language  left  to  grow  up  without 
guidance  or  instruction  from  adults,  to  perceive  that 
even  now  tiie  higher  intellectual  faculties  would  be 
almost  inoperative,  from  lack  of  the  materials  and 
aids  accumulated  l)y  past  civilization.  And  seeing 
this,  Ave  cannot  fail  to  see  that  development  of  the 
higher  intellectual   faculties  has  gone  on  pcoi  2^'<'Ssu 


THE  DA  WN  OF  MIND.  147 

with  social  advance  alike  as  cause  and  consequence ; 
that  the  primitive  man  could  not  evolve  these  higher 
intellectual  faculties  in  the  absence  of  a  fit  environ- 
ment; and  that  in  this,  as  in  other  respects,  his  prog- 
ress was  retarded  by  the  absence  of  capacities  which 
only  progress  could  bring.'''  ^ 

The  last  testimony  is  that  of  Language.  It  has 
already  been  pleaded  in  excuse  for  the  absence  of 
actual  proof  for  mental  evolution  that  Mind  leaves  no 
material  footprints  by  which  the  palseontologist  can 
trace  its  upward  path.  Yet  this  is  not  wholly  true. 
The  flints  and  arrow-heads,  the  celts  and  hammers,  of 
early  Man  are  fossil  intelligence  ;  the  remains  of 
primitive  arts  and  industries  are  petrified  Mind.  But 
there  is  one  mould  into  which  Mind  has  run  more 
large  and  beautiful  than  any  of  these.  When  its  con- 
tents are  examined  they  carry  us  back  not  only  to 
what  men  worked  at  with  their  hands,  but  to  what 
they  said  to  one  another  as  they  Avorked  and  what 
they  thought  as  they  spoke.  That  mould  is  Lan- 
guage. Language,  says  Jean  Paul,  is  "  ein  Worter- 
buch  erblasster  Metaphern " — a  dictionary  of  faded 
metaphors.  But  it  is  mucli  more.  A  word  is  a 
counter  of  the  brain,  a  tangible  expression  of  a  mental 
state,  an  heirloom  of  the  wealth  of  culture  of  a  race. 
And  an  old  word,  like  an  ancient  coin,  speaks  to  us  of 
a  former  currency  of  thought,  and  by  its  image  and 
superscription  reveals  the  mental  life  and  aspiration  of 
those  who  minted  it.  "  Language  is  the  amber  in 
which  a  thousand  precious  and  subtle  tlioughts  have 
been  safely  embalmed  and  preserved.  It  is  the  em- 
bodiment, the  incarnation,  of  the  feelings  and  thoughts 

^  Herbert  Spencer,  PrinripJrs  of  Sociolrir/j/^  Vol.  i.,  p.  00,  1. 


148  THE  DA  WN  OF  MIND. 

and  experiences  of  a  nation,  yea  often  of  many  nations, 
and  of  all  which  thi'ough  long  centuries  they  have 
attained  to  and  won.  It  stands  like  the  Pillars  of 
Hercules,  to  mark  how  far  the  moi'al  and  intellectual 
conquests  of  mankind  have  advanced,  only  not  like 
those  pillars,  fixed  and  immovable,  but  even  itself 
advancing  with  the  progress  of  these.  The  mighty 
moral  instincts  wiiich  have  been  working  in  the  popu- 
lar mind  have  found  therein  their  unconscious  voice  ; 
and  the  single  kinglier  spirits  that  have  looked  deeper 
into  the  heart  of  things  have  oftentimes  gathered  up 
all  they  have  seen  into  some  one  word,  which  they 
have  launched  upon  the  world,  and  with  which  they 
have  enriched  it  forever — making  in  the  new  word  a 
new  region  of  thought  to  be  henceforward  in  some 
sort  the  common  heritage  of  all."  ^ 

What  then,  when  we  open  this  marvellous  struct- 
ure, is  the  revelation  yielded  us  of  the  mental  states 
of  those  wiio  lived  at  the  dawn  of  speech?  An  im- 
pression of  poverty,  great  and  pathetic.  All  fossils 
teach  the  same  lesson — the  lesson  of  life,  beauty, 
structure,  waning  into  a  poverty-stricken  past. 
Whether  they  be  the  shells  which  living  creatures 
once  inhabited,  or  the  bones  of  departed  vertebrate 
types,  or  the  forms  of  words  where  wisdom  lay  en- 
tombed, the  structures  became  simpler  and  simpler 
cruder  and  cruder,  less  full  of  the  richness  and 
abundance  of  life  as  v/e  near  the  birth  of  time.  They 
tell  of  days  when  the  world  was  very  young,  when 
plants  were  flowerless  and  animals  back-boneless,  of 
later  years  when  primeval  Man  prowled  the  forest  and 
chipped  his  flints  and  chattered  in  uncouth  syllables 
^  Trench,  The  Study  "f  ll'"r'/.s-.  p.  28. 


THE  DA  WN  OF  MIND.  149 


of  battle  and  the  chase.  No  words  entered  at  that 
time  into  human  speech  except  tliose  relating  to  the 
activities,  few  and  monotonous,  of  an  almost  animal 
lot.  These  were  the  days  of  the  protoplasm  of  speech. 
There  was  no  differentiation  between  verbs  or  ad- 
verbs, nouns  or  adjectives.  The  sentence  as  yet  was 
not ;  each  word  was  a  sentence.  There  was  no  gram- 
matical inflection  but  the  inflection  of  the  voice ;  the 
moods  of  the  verb  were  uttered  by  intonation  or 
grimace.  The  pronouns  "  him  "  and  "  you  "  were 
made  by  pointing  at  him  and  you.  Man  had  even 
no  word  for  himself,  for  he  had  not  yet  discovered 
himself.  This  fact,  when  duly  considered,  raises  the 
witness  of  Language  to  the  Ascent  of  Mind  to  an 
almost  unique  importance.  Nothing  more  significant 
could  be  said  as  to  Man's  mental  past  than  that 
there  was  a  time  when  he  Avas  scarcely  conscious 
of  himself,  as  a  self.  He  knew  himself,  not  as  subject, 
but  like  a  little  child,  as  one  of  the  objects  of  the 
external  world.  The  words  might  have  been  written 
liistorically  of  mankind,  "  When  I  was  a  child,  I 
spake  as  a  child." 

This  evidence  will  meet  us  again  in  other  forms 
Avhen  we  pass  to  consider  the  Evolution  of  Language 
itself.  Meantime  let  us  close  this  chapter  by  point- 
ing out  a  relation  of  a  nuich  more  significant  order 
between  Language  and  the  whole  subject  of  JNIental 
Evolution.  For  the  point  is  not  oidy  of  special  in- 
terest but  it  touches  upon,  and  helps  to  solve,  one  of 
the  vital  problems  of  the  Ascent  of  Man. 

The  enormous  distance  travelled  by  the  Mind  of 
Man  beyond  the  utmost  limit  of  intelligence  reached 
by  any  animal  is  a  puzzling  circumstance,  a  circum- 


150  THE  DAW  y  OF  MIM). 

stance  only  equalled  in  strangeness  by  another — 
the  suddenness  with  which  that  rise  took  place.  Both 
facts  are  Avithout  a  parallel  in  nature.  Why,  of  the 
countless  thousands  of  species  of  animals,  each  with 
some  shadowy  rudiment  of  a  Mind,  all  should  have 
remained  comparatively  at  the  same  dead  level, 
while  ]Man  alone  shot  past  and  developed  powers  of 
a  quality  and  with  a  speed  unknown  in  the  world's 
history,  is  a  question  which  it  is  impossible  not  to 
raise.  That  by  far  the  greatest  step  in  the  world's 
history  should  not  only  have  been  taken  at  the 
eleventh  hour,  but  that  it  took  only  an  hour  to  do 
it — for  compared  with  the  time  when  animals  began 
their  first  activities,  the  birth  of  Man  is  a  thing  of 
yesterday — seems  almost  the  denial  of  Evolution. 
What  was  it  in  Man's  case  that  gave  his  mental 
powers  their  unprecedented  start  or  facilitated  a 
growth  so  rapid  and  so  vast  ? 

The  factors  in  all  Evolution,  and  above  all  in  this, 
are  too  subtle  to  encourage  one  to  speculate  with 
final  assurance  on  so  fine  a  problem.  Nevertheless, 
when  it  is  asked,  What  brought  about  this  sudden 
rise  of  intelligence  in  the  case  of  Man,  there  is  a 
wonderful  unanimity  among  men  of  science  as  to  the 
answer.  It  came  about,  it  is  supposed,  in  connection 
with  the  acquisition  by  Man  of  the  power  to  express 
his  mind,  that  is  to  sj^eak.  Evolution,  up  to  this  time, 
had  only  one  way  of  banking  the  gains  it  won — hered- 
ity. To  hand  on  any  impi'ovement  physically  was 
a  slow  and  precarious  work.  But  Avith  the  discovery 
of  language  there  arose  a  new  method  of  passing  on  a 
step  in  progress.  Instead  of  sowing  the  gain  on  the 
wind    of  heredity,  it  was  fastened  on  the  wings   of 


THE  DAWN  OF  MINI).  151 

words.  The  way  to  make  money  is  not  only  to  ac- 
cumulate small  gains  steadily,  but  to  put  them  out  at 
a  good  rate  of  interest.  Animals  did  the  first  with 
their  mental  acquisitions  :  JMan  did  the  second.  At  a 
comparatively  early  date,  he  found  out  a  first-rate 
and  permanent  investment  for  liis  money,  so  that  he 
could  not  only  keep  his  savings  and  put  them  out  at 
tlie  highest  rate  of  interest,  but  have  a  share  in  all 
the  gain  that  was  made  by  other  men.  That  dis- 
covery was  Language.  Many  animals  had  hit  upon 
an  imperfect  form  of  this  discovery  ;  but  Man  alone 
succeeded  in  improving  it  up  to  a  really  paying  point. 
The  condition  of  all  growth  is  exercise,  and  till  he 
could  find  a  further  field  and  a  larger  opportunity  to 
work  what  little  brains  he  had,  he  had  little  chance 
of  getting  more.  Speech  gave  him  this  opportunity. 
He  rapidly  ran  up  a  fortune  in  brain-matter,  because 
he  had  found  out  new  uses  for  it,  new  exercises  of  it, 
and  especially  a  permanent  investment  for  husbanding 
in  the  race  each  gain  as  it  was  made  in  the  individual. 
When  he  did  anything  he  could  now  say  it;  when  he 
learned  anything  he  could  pass  it  on;  when  he  became 
wise  wisdom  did  not  die  with  liim,  it  was  banked  in 
the  jMmd  of  humanity.  So  one  man  lent  his  mind  to 
another.  The  loans  became  larger  and  larger,  the 
interest  greater  and  greater ;  Man's  fortune  was 
secured.  In  the  mere  Struggle  for  Life,  his  wits  wei'e 
sharpened  up  to  a  point;  but  unless  he  had  learned  to 
talk,  he  could  never  have  i)assed  very  far  beyond  the 
animal. 

Apart  from  the  saving  of  time;  and  the  facility  for 
increased  knowledge,  the  acquisition  of  speech  meant 
a  savin c:  of  brain.     A  word  is  a  counter  for  a  thought. 


152  THE  DAWX  OF  MIND. 


To  u&e  language  is  to  nuxlce  thinking  easy.  Hence 
the  release  of  brain  energy  for  further  developments 
in  new  directions.  In  tliese  and  other  ways  speech 
became  the  main  factor  in  the  intellectual  develop- 
ment of  mankind.  Language  formed  the  trellis  on 
which  Mind  climbed  upward,  which  continuously  sus- 
tained the  ripening  fruits  of  knowledge  for  later 
minds  to  pluck.  Before  the  savage's  son  Avas  ten 
years  old  he  knew  all  that  his  father  knew.  The 
ways  of  the  game,  the  habits  of  birds  and  fish,  the 
construction  of  traps  and  snares — all  these  would  be 
taught  him.  The  physical  world,  the  changes  of 
season,  the  location  of  hostile  tribes,  the  strategies  of 
war,  all  the  details  and  interests  of  savage  life  would 
be  explained.  And  before  the  boy  was  in  his  teens  he 
Avas  equipped  for  the  Struggle  for  Life  as  his  fore- 
fathers had  never  been  even  in  old  age.  The  son,  in 
short,  started  to  evolve  where  his  father  left  off.  Try 
to  realize  what  it  would  be  for  each  of  us  to  begin  life 
afresh,  to  be  able  to  learn  nothing  by  the  experiences 
of  others,  to  live  in  a  dumb  and  illiterate  world,  and 
see  what  chance  the  animal  had  of  making  pro- 
nounced progress  until  the  acquisition  of  speech.  It 
is  not  too  much  to  say  that  speech,  if  mental  evolution 
is  to  come  to  anything  or  is  to  be  worth  anything,  is  a 
necessary  condition.  By  it  alone,  in  any  degree  worth 
naming,  can  the  fruits  of  observation  and  experience 
of  one  generation  be  husbanded  to  form  a  new  start- 
ing-point for  a  second,  nor  without  it  could  there  be 
any  concerted  action  or  social  life.  The  greatness  of 
the  human  ]Mind,  after  all,  is  due  to  the  tongue,  the 
material  instrument  of  reason,  and  to  Language  the 
outward  expression  of  the  inner  life. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  EVOLUTION  OF  LANGUAGE. 

If  Evolution  is  the  metliod  of  Creation,  the  faculty 
of  Speech  was  no  sudden  gift.  Man's  mind  is  not  to 
be  thought  of  as  the  cylinder  of  a  phonograph  to 
which  ready-made  words  were  spoken  and  stored  up 
for  future  use.  Before  Homo  sapiens  was  evolved  he 
must  necessarily  have  been  preceded  for  a  longer  or 
shorter  period  by  Homo  alalus,  the  not-speaking  man  ; 
and  this  man  had  to  make  his  Avords,  and  beginning 
with  dumb  signs  and  inarticulate  cries  to  build  up 
a  body  of  Language  word  by  word  as  the  body  was 
built  up  cell  by  cell. 

The  alternative  theory  of  the  origin  of  Language 
universally  held  until  lately,  and  expressed  in  so 
many  words  even  by  the  eighth  edition  of  the 
Encj/clopcedia  Jjrltannica,  that  "  our  first  parents 
received  it  by  innnediate  inspiration,"  has  the  same 
I'elation  to  exact  science  as  the  view  that  the  world 
was  made  in  six  days  by  direct  creative  fiat.  Both  are 
poetically  true.  But  to  science,  seeking  for  precise 
methods  of  operation,  neither  is  an  adequate  statement 
of  now  ascertained  facts.  The  same  processes  of  re- 
seai'ch  that  made  the  poetic  view  of  creation  unten- 
able in  the  physical  realm  are  now  slowly  beginning 

153 


154  THE  EVOLUTION  OF  LANGUAGE. 


to  displace  tlie  older  view  of  the  origin  of  speech. 
That  Language  should  be  outside  a  law  whose  univer- 
sality is  being  established  with  every  step  of  progress, 
is  itself  improbable;  and  now  that  the  field  is  being 
exhaustively  explored  the  proofs  that  it  is  no  excep- 
tion multiply  on  eveiy  side.  The  living  interest  the 
mere  suggestion  gives  to  the  study  of  Language  is 
obvious.  Evolution  enters  no  region — dull,  neglected, 
or  remote — of  the  temple  of  knowledge  without  trans- 
forming it.  Philology,  since  this  wizard  touched  it, 
has  become  one  of  the  most  entrancing  of  the  sciences. 
And  Language,  from  a  study  which  interested  only  a 
few  specialists,  is  disclosed  as  one  vast  palimjosest, 
every  word  and  phrase  luminous  with  the  inner  mind 
and  soul  of  the  past.  To  penetrate  far  into  this 
tempting  region  is  beyond  our  province  now.  The 
immediate  object  is  to  give  a  simple  sketch  of  the 
possible  conditions  which  first  led  JNIan  to  speak;  of 
the  principles  which  apparently  guided  the  formation 
of  his  early  vocabulary  ;  and  of  the  gradual  refining  of 
the  means  of  intercommunication  between  him  and  his 
fellow-men  as  time  passed  on.  Instead  of  beginning 
with  words,  therefore,  we  shall  begin  with  Man.  For 
the  first  condition  for  understanding  the  Evolution  of 
Speech  is  that  we  take  it  up  as  a  study  from  the  life, 
that  we  place  ourselves  in  the  primeval  forest  with 
early  Man,  in  touch  Math  the  actual  scenes  in  which 
he  lived,  and  note  the  real  experiences  and  necessities 
of  such  a  lot.  We  may  indeed  discover  in  this  re- 
search small  trace  of  a  miraculous  inbreathing  of 
formal  words.  But  to  make  Speech  and  fit  it  into 
a  man,  after  all  is  said,  is  less  miraculous  than  to  tit  a 
man  to  make  Speech. 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF  LANGUAGE.  155 

One  of  the  earliest  devices  hit  upon  in  the  course  of 
Evolution  was  the  principle  of  co-operation.  Long 
before  men  had  learned  to  form  themselves  into  tribes 
and  clans  for  mutual  strength  and  service,  gregarious- 
ness  was  an  established  institution.  The  deer  had 
formed  themselves  into  herds,  and  the  monkeys  into 
troops;  the  birds  were  in  flocks,  and  the  wolves  in 
packs;  the  bees  in  hives,  and  the  ants  in  colonies. 
And  so  abundant  and  dominant  in  every  part  of  the 
world  are  these  social  types  to-day  that  we  may  be 
sure  the  gregarious  state  has  exceptional  advantages 
in  the  upward  struggle. 

One  of  these  advantages,  obviously,  is  the  mere 
physical  strength  of  numbers.  But  there  is  another 
and  a  much  more  important  one — the  mental  strength 
of  a  combination.  Here  is  a  herd  of  deer,  scattered, 
as  they  love  to  be,  in  a  string,  quarter  of  a  mile  long. 
Every  animal  in  the  herd  not  only  shares  the  physical 
strength  of  all  the  rest,  but  their  powers  of  observa- 
tion. Its  foresight  in  presence  of  possible  danger  is 
the  foresight  of  the  herd.  It  has  as  many  eyes  as  the 
herd,  as  many  ears,  as  many  organs  of  smell,  its 
nervous  system  extends  throughout  the  whole  space 
covered  by  the  line;  its  environment,  in  short,  is  not 
only  what  it  hears,  sees,  smells,  touches,  tastes,  but 
what  every  single  member  hears,  sees,  smells,  touches, 
tastes.  This  jneans  an  enormous  advantage  in  the 
Struggle  for  Life.  What  deer  have  to  arm  themselves 
most  against  is  surprise.  When  it  comes  to  an  actual 
fight,  comrades  are  of  little  use.  At  that  crisis  the 
others  run  away  and  leave  the  victims  to  their  fate. 
But  in  helping  one  another  to  avei't  that  crisis,  the 
value  of  this  mutual  aid  is  so  great  that  gregarious 


IfiG  THE  EVOLUTION  OF  LANGUAGE. 


animals,  for  the  most  part  timid  and  defenceless  as 
individuals,  have  survived  to  occupy  in  untold  multi- 
tudes the  hig'hest  places  in  Nature. 

The  success  of  the  co-operative  principle,  however, 
depends  upon  one  condition  :  the  memhers  of  the  herd 
must  be  able  to  communicate  with  one  another.  It 
matters  not  how  acute  the  senses  of  each  animal  may 
be,  the  strength  of  the  column  depends  on  the  power 
to  transmit  from  one  to  another  what  impressions 
each  may  receive  at  any  moment  from  without. 
Without  this  power  the  sociality  of  the  herd  is  stulti- 
fied; the  army,  having  no  signalling  department,  is 
powerless  as  an  army.  But  if  any  member  of  the 
herd  is  able  by  motion  of  head  or  foot  or  neck  or  ear, 
by  any  sign  or  by  any  sound,  to  pass  on  the  news  that 
there  is  danger  near,  each  instantly  enters  into  posses- 
sion of  the  faculties  of  the  whole.  Each  has  a  hun- 
dred eyes,  noses,  ears.  Each  has  quarter  of  a  mile 
of  nerves.  Thus  numbers  are  strength  only  when 
strength  is  coupled  with  some  power  of  intercom- 
munication by  signs.  If  one  herd  develops  this  sig- 
nalling system  and  another  does  not,  its  chances  of 
survival  will  be  greater.  The  less  equipped  herds  will 
be  slowly  decimated  and  driven  to  the  wall;  and 
those  which  survive  to  propagate  their  kind  will  be 
those  whose  signal-service  is  most  efficient  and  com- 
plete. Hence  the  Evolution  of  the  signal-system. 
Under  the  influence  of  Natural  Selection  its  progress 
was  inevitable.  New  circumstances  and  relations 
would  in  time  arise,  calling  for  additions,  vocal,  visi- 
ble, audible,  to  the  sign-vocabulary.  And  as  time 
went  on  each  set  of  animals  would  acquire  a  definite 
signal-service    of  its    own,   elementary   to    the    last 


TUE  EVOLUTION  OF  LANGUAGE.  157 

degree,  yet  covering  the  range  of  its  ordinary  expe- 
riences and  adequate  to  the  expression  of  its  hmited 
mental  states. 

Now  what  interests  us  with  regard  to  these  signs 
is  that  they  are  LangucKje.  Tlie  evolution  we  have 
been  tracing  is  nothing  less  than  the  first  stage  in 
the  evolution  of  Speech.  Any  means  by  which  infor- 
mation is  conveyed  from  one  mind  to  another  is 
Language.  And  Language  existed  on  the  earth  from 
the  day  that  animals  began  to  live  together.  The 
mere  fact  that  animals  cling  to  one  another,  live 
together,  move  about  together,  proves  that  they  com- 
municate. Among  the  ants,  perhaps  the  most  social 
of  the  lower  animals,  this  power  is  so  perfect  that 
they  are  not  merely  endowed  with  a  few  general  signs 
but  seem  able  to  convey  information  upon  matters  of 
detail.  Sweeping  across  country  in  great  armies  they 
keep  up  communication  throughout  the  whole  line,' 
and  succeed  in  conveying  to  one  another  information 
as  to  tbe  easiest  routes,  the  presence  of  enemies  or 
obstacles,  the  proximity  of  food  supplies,  and  even  of 
the  numbers  requii'ed  on  emergencies  to  leave  the 
main  band  for  any  special  service.  Every  one  has 
observed  ants  stop  when  they  meet  one  another  and 
exchange  a  rapid  greeting  by  means  of  their  waving 
antennae,  and  it  is  possibly  through  these  perplexing 
oi-gans  that  definite  intercourse  between  one  creature 
and  another  first  entered  the  world.  The  exact 
nature  of  the  antenna-language  is  not  yet  fathomed, 
but  the  perfection  to  which  it  is  carried  proves  that 
the  idea  of  language  generally  has  existed  in 
nature  from  the  earliest  time.  Among  higher  animals 
various  outward  expressions  of  emotions  arc  made,  and 


158  THE  EVOLUTION  OF  LANGUAGE. 

these  become  of  service  in  time  for  the  conveyance  of 
information  to  others.  The  howl  of  tne  dog,  the 
neigh  of  tlie  horse,  tlie  bleat  of  the  lamb,  the  stamp 
of  the  goat,  and  other  signs  are  all  readily  understood 
by  other  animals.  One  monkey  utters  at  least  six 
different  sounds  to  express  its  feelings ;  and  Mr. 
Darwin  has  detected  four  or  five  modulations  in  the 
bark  of  the  dog :  "  the  bark  of  eagerness,  as  m  the 
chase  •  that  of  anger  as  well  as  growling ;  the  yelp  or 
howl  of  despair  when  shut  up;  the  baying  at  night; 
the  bark  of  joy  when  starting  on  a  walk  with  his 
master ;  and  the  very  distinct  one  of  demand  or  sup- 
plication, as  when  wishing  for  a  door  or  window  to  be 
opened.''  ^ 

Now  these  signs  are  as  much  language  as  spoken 
words.  You  have  only  to  evolve  this  to  get  all  the 
language  the  dictionary-maker  requires.  Any  method 
of  communication,  as  already  said,  is  Language,  and 
to  understand  Language  we  must  fix  in  our  minds  the 
idea  that  it  has  no  necessary  connection  with  actual 
words.  In  the  simple  instances  just  given  there  are 
illustrations  of  at  least  three  kinds  of  Language. 
When  a  deer  throws  up  its  head  suddenly,  all  tlie 
other  deer  throw  up  their  heads.  That  is  a  sign.  It 
means  •'  listen.''  If  the  first  deer  sees  the  object, 
which  has  called  its  attention,  to  be  suspicious,  it 
utters  a  low  note.  That  is  a  word.  It  means  "  cau- 
tion." If  next  it  sees  the  object  to  be  not  only  sus- 
picious but  dangerous,  it  makes  a  further  use  of 
Language — intonation.  Instead  of  the  low  note 
"  listen,"  it  utters  a  sharp  loud  cry  that  means 
"Run    for   your    life."     Hence   tliese   three   kinds   of 

'  D:ii\vin,  Ihsrcnt  <>f  Mnii,  p.  84. 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF  LANGUAGE.  159 

Language — a  sign  or  gesture,  a  note  or  word,  an  in. 
tonaticn. 

Down  to  this  present  hour  these  are  still  the 
three  great  kinds  of  Language.  The  movement 
of  foot  oi'  ear  has  been  evolved  into  the  modern 
gesture  or  grimace ;  the  note  or  cry  into  a  woixl, 
and  the  intonation  ir.to  an  emphasis  or  inflection 
of  the  voice.  These  ai'e  still,  indeed,  not  only  the 
main  elements  in  Language  but  the  only  elements. 
The  eloquence  which  enthralls  the  legislators  of  St. 
Stephen's,  or  the  appeal  which  melts  tliCAvorshippers  at 
St.  Paul's,  oi'iginated  in  the  voices  of  the  forest  and  the 
activities  of  the  ant-hill.  To  those  who  have  not 
realized  the  exceeding  smallness  of  the  beginnings  of 
all  new  developments,  the  suggestion  of  science  as  to 
the  origin  of  Language,  like  many  of  its  other  sugges- 
tions about  early  stages,  will  seem  almost  ludicrous. 
But  a  knowledge  of  two  things  warns  one  not  to  look 
for  surprises  at  the  beginning  of  Evolution  but  at  the 
end.  In  the  first  place,  it  is  all  but  a  cardinal  principle 
that  developments  are  brouglit  about  by  minute,  slow 
and  insensible  degrees.  The  second  fact  is  even  more 
important.  The  theatre  of  change  is  the  actual  world, 
and  the  exciting  cause  something  really  happening  in 
every-day  life.  Xew  departures  are  not  made  in  the 
air.  They  arise  in  connection  Avith  some  commonplace 
event;  and  usually  take  the  shape  of  some  slightly 
new  response.  In  other  connections,  of  course,  the  con- 
verse is  also  true,  but  Avhen  a  change  occurs  for  the 
first  time  in  the  life  of  an  organism  the  exciting  cause, 
whatever  tlie  internal  adaptation,  or  want  of  it,  is 
some  change  in  the  environment.  Among  the  events 
then,  actually  happening  in  the  day's  round,  we  are 


160  THE  EVOLUTION  OF  LANGUAGE. 

to  seek  for  the  exciting  cause  of  the  earliest  forms  of 
speech. 

Tlie  simplest  Language  open  to  ]\Ian  was  that  Mhich 
we  have  already  seen  to  mark  the  beginning  of  all 
Language,  the  Language  of  gestuie  or  sign.  To  the 
word  gesture,  however,  it  is  necessary  to  attach  a 
larger  meaning  than  the  term  ordinarily  expresses  to 
ns.  It  is  not  to  be  limited,  for  example,  to  visible 
movements  of  the  limbs  or  facial  muscles.  The  ejac- 
ulations of  the  savage,  the  drumming  of  the  gorilla, 
the  screech  of  the  parrot,  the  crying,  growling,  purring, 
hissing,  and  spitting  of  other  animals  are  all  forms  of 
gesture.  Xor  is  it  possible  to  separate  the  Language 
of  gestui-e  from  the  Language  of  intonation.  These 
have  grown  up  side  by  side  and  can  neither  be  dis- 
tinguished psychologically  nor  as  to  priority  in  the 
order  of  Evolution.  Litonation,  though  it  has  grown 
to  be  infinitely  the  more  delicate  instrument  of  the  two 
and  is  still  so  important  a  pai't  of  some  Languages — 
the  Chinese,  for  example — as  to  be  an  integral  part  of 
them,  has  its  roots  in  the  same  soil  and  must  be  looked 
upon  as,  along  with  it,  the  earliest  form  of  Language. 

That  this  Gesture-Language  marked,  if  not  the  dawn, 
at  least  a  very  early  stage  of  Language  in  the  case  of 
Man,  there  is  abundant  evidence.  Apart  from  analogy, 
there  are  at  least  three  witnesses  who  may  be  cited  ni 
proof  not  only  of  the  fact,  but  of  the  high  perfection  to 
which  a  Gesture-Language  may  be  carried.  The  first 
of  these  witnesses  is  the  homo  alalus,  the  not-speaking 
man,  of  to-day,  the  deaf  mute.  As  an  actual  case  of  a 
human  being  reduced  as  regards  the  power  of  speech  to 
the  level  of  early  Man  his  evidence,  even  with  ail  allow- 
ances for  the  high  development  of  his  mental  faculties, 


rilE  EVOLUTION  OF  LANGUAGE.  161 


is  of  scientific  value.  The  mere  fact  that  a  deaf  man 
is  also  a  dumb  man  is  almost  a  final  answer  to  the 
affirmation  that  the  power  of  speech  is  an  original  and 
intuitive  faculty  of  Man.  If  it  were  so,  there  is  no 
reason  why  a  deaf  man  should  not  speak.  The  vocal 
apparatus  in  his  case  is  complete;  all  that  is  required 
to  make  him  utter  a  definite  sound  is  to  hear  one. 
When  lie  hears  one,  but  not  till  then,  he  can  imitate  it. 
Language,  so  far  as  the  testimony  of  the  deaf-mute 
goes,  is  clearly  a  matter  of  imitation.  Unable  to  attain 
the  second  stage  of  Language — words — he  has  to  con- 
tent himself  with  the  first — -signs.  And  tliis  Language 
he  has  evolved  to  its  last  perfection.  It  shows  how 
little  the  mere  utterance  of  words  has  to  do  with  Lan- 
guage, that  the  deaf-mute  is  able  to  converse  on  every- 
day subjects  almost  as  perfectly  as  those  who  can 
speak.  The  permutations  and  combinations  that  can 
be  produced  with  ten  pliable  fingers,  or  with  the  vary- 
ing expressions  of  the  muscles  of  the  face,  are  endless, 
and  everything  that  he  cares  to  know  can  be  uttered  or 
translated  to  him  by  motion,  gesture,  and  grimace. 
To  give  an  idea  how  far  gestures  can  be  made  to  do  the 
work  of  spoken  words,  tlie  signs  may  be  described  in 
which  a  deaf-and-dumb  man  once  told  a  child's  story  in 
presence  of  INIr.  Tylor.  "  He  began  by  moving  his 
hand,  palm  down,  about  a  yard  from  the  ground,  as  we 
do  to  sliow  the  height  of  a  child — this  meant  that  it 
was  a  child  he  was  thinking  of.  Then  he  tied  an 
imaginai-y  pair  of  bonnet-strings  under  his  chin  (his 
usual  sign  for  female),  to  make  it  understood  that  the 
child  was  a  little  girl.  The  child's  mother  was  then 
brought  on  tlie  scene  in  a  similar  way.  Slic  beckons  to 
tlie  cliild  and  gives  her  twopence,  lliese  being  indicated 
Jl 


162  TUE  EVOLUTION  OF  LANGUAGE. 

by  pretending  to  drop  two  coins  fi-oni  one  hand  into  the 
other;  if  there  had  been  any  donbt  as  to  whether  tliey 
were  cojiper  or  silver  coins,  this  wonld  liave  been  settled 
by  pointing  to  something  brown  or  even  by  one^s  con- 
temptuons  way  of  handhng  coppers  which  at  once  dis- 
tinguishes tliem  from  silver.  The  mother  also  gives 
the  child  a  jar,  shown  by  sketching  its  shape  with  the 
forefingers  in  the  air,  and  going  through  the  act  of 
handing  it  over.  Then  by  imitating  the  unmistakable 
kind  of  twist  with  which  one  turns  a  treacle-spoon,  it 
is  made  known  that  it  is  treacle  the  child  has  to  buy. 
Next,  a  wave  of  the  hand  shows  the  child  being  sent 
off  on  her  errand,  the  usual  sign  of  walking  being 
added,  which  is  made  by  two  fingers  walking  on  the 
table.  The  turning  of  an  imaginary  door-handle  now 
takes  us  into  the  shop,  when  the  counter  is  shown  by. 
passing  the  flat  hands  as  it  were  over  it.  Behind  this 
counter  a  figure  is  pointed  out ;  he  is  shown  to  be  a 
man  by  the  usual  sign  of  putting  one's  hand  to  one's 
chin  and  drawing  it  down  where  the  beard  is  or  would 
be;  then  the  sign  of  tying  an  apron  around  one's  waist 
adds  the  information  that  the  man  is  the  shopman. 
To  him  the  child  gives  her  jar,  dropping  the  money  into 
his  hand,  and  moving  her  forefinger  as  if  taking  up 
treacle  to  show  what  she  wants.  Then  we  see  the  jar 
put  into  an  imaginary  pair  of  scales  which  go  up  and 
down  ;  the  great  treacle-jar  is  brought  from  the  shelf 
and  the  little  one  filled,  with  the  proper  twist  to  take 
up  the  last  trickling  thread ;  the  grocer  puts  the  two 
coins  in  the  till,  and  the  little  girl  sets  off  with  the  jar. 
The  deaf-and-dumb  story-teller  went  on  to  show  in 
pantomime  how  the  child,  looking  down  at  the  jar,  saw 
a  drop  of  treacle  on  the  rim,  wiped  it  off  with   her 


THE  EVOL  UTION  OF  LANG  UA  GE.  I G3 

linj^er,  and  put  the  finger  in  lier  mouth,  liow  she  was 
tempted  tp  take  more,  liow  lier  mother  found  her  out 
by  the  spot  of  treacle  on  lier  pinafore,  and  so  forth."  ^ 

A  second  witness  is  savage  Man.  Some  of  the 
more  primitive  races,  far  as  they  have  evolved  past 
the  alalus  stage,  still  cling  to  the  gesture-language 
which  bulked  so  largely  in  the  intercourse  of  tlieir 
ancestors.  No  one  wdio  has  witnessed  a  conversa- 
tion— one  says  "  witnessed,"  for  it  is  more  seeing 
than  hearing — between  two  different  tribes  of  Indians 
can  have  any  doubt  of  the  working  efliciency  of  this 
method  of  speech.  After  ten  minutes  of  almost  pure 
pantomime  eacli  will  have  told  the  other  everything 
that  it  is  needful  to  say.  Indians  of  diffo'ent  tribes, 
indeed,  are  able  to  communicate  most  perfectly  on  all 
ordinary  subjects  with  no  more  use  of  the  voice  than 
that  required  for  the  emission  of  a  few  different  kinds 
of  grunts.  The  fact  that  stranger  tribes  make  so 
large  a  use  of  gesture  in  expressing  themselves  to 
one  another  does  not,  of  course,  imply  that  eacli  has 
not  a  word-language  of  its  own.  But  few  of  the  Lan- 
guages of  primitive  peoples  are  complete  without  the 
additions  which  gesture  offers.  There  are  gaps  in  the 
vocaV)ulary  of  almost  all  savage  tribes  due  to  the  fact 
that  in  actual  speech  the  hicnnm  are  bridged  by  signs, 
and  many  of  tlieir  words  belong  more  to  the  category 
of  signs  than  to  that  of  words. 

The  final  witness  is  the  first  attempt  at  Language  of 
a  little  child.  Laiiversally  an  infant  opens  comnumi- 
cation  with  the  mental  world  around  it  in  the  primi- 
tive language  of  gesture  and  tone.  Long  before  it  has 
learned  to  speak,  witliout  the  use  of  a  single  word  it 
1  Tylor,  Anlfiropoloyy. 


164  TUE  EVOLUTION  OF  LANGUAGE. 

conveys  information  as  to  fundamental  wants,  and 
expresses  all  its  varying  moods  and  wishes  with  a 
vehemence  and  point  which  are  almost  the  envy  of 
riper  years.  The  interesting  thing  about  this  is  that 
it  is  spontaneous.  In  later  childhood  it  has  to  he 
taught  to  speak — because  speech  is  a  fine  art — but  to 
litter  the  liei-editary  and  piimitive  Language  of  man- 
kind requires  no  prompting.  Words  are  conven- 
tional, movements  and  sounds  are  natural.  The  Lan- 
guage of  the  nursery  is  the  native  Language  of  the 
forest,  the  inarticulate  cry  of  the  animal,  the  into- 
nation of  the  savage.  To  quote  from  IMallery  : — "  The 
wislies  and  emotions  of  very  young  children  are  con- 
veyed in  a  small  number  of  sounds,  but  in  a  great 
variety  of  gestures  and  facial  expressions.  A  child's 
gestures  are  intelligent  long  in  advance  of  speech  ;  al- 
tliough  very  early  and  persistent  attempts  are  made  to 
give  it  instruction  in  the  latter  but  none  in  the  for- 
mer, from  the  time  when  it  begins  risus  cognoscere 
inatrem.  It  learns  words  only  as  they  are  taught, 
and  learns  them  through  the  medium  of  signs  which 
are  not  expressly  taught.  Long  after  familiarity  with 
speech  it  consults  the  gestures  and  facial  expressions 
of  its  parents  and  nurses,  as  if  seeking  them  to  trans- 
late or  explain  their  words.  These  facts  are  im- 
portant in  reference  to  the  biologic  law  that  the  oitler 
of  development  of  the  individual  is  tlie  same  as  that 
of  the  species.  .  .  .  The  insane  understand  and 
obey  gestures  when  they  have  no  knowledge  whatever 
of  words.  It  is  also  found  that  semi-idiotic  children 
who  cannot  be  taught  more  tliaii  the  merest  rudiment 
of  speech  can  receive  a  considerable  amount  of  infor- 
mation through  signs,   and   can   express   themselves 


THE  FA'OLUTIOS  OF  LAyOUAGE.  1G5 


by  thein.  Sufferers  from  aphasia  continue  to  use 
appropriate  gestures.  A  stammerer,  too,  works  his 
arms  and  features  as  if  determined  to  get  liis  tlioughts 
out,  in  a  manner  not  only  suggestive  of  tlie  physical 
struggle,  but  of  the  use  of  gesture  as  a  hereditary 
expedient."  ^ 

The  survival  both  of  gesture  and  intonation  in 
modern  adult  speech,  and  especially  the  unconscious- 
ness of  their  use,  illustrate  how  indelibly  these 
primitive  forms  of  Language  are  embedded  in  the 
human  race.  There  are  doubtless  exceptions,  but  it  is 
probably  the  rule  that  gestures  are  mainly  called  in 
to  supplement  expression  when  the  subject-matter  of 
discourse  does  not  belong  to  the  highest  ranges  of 
thought,  or  the  speaker  to  the  loftiest  type  of  oratory. 
The  higher  levels  of  thought  were  reached  when  the 
purer  forms  of  spoken  Language  had  become  the 
vehicle  of  expression  ;  and,  as  has  often  been  noticed, 
when  a  speaker  soars  into  a  very  lofty  region,  or 
allows  his  mind  to  grapple  intensely  and  absorbingly 
with  an  exalted  theme,  he  becomes  more  and  more 
motionless,  and  only  resumes  the  gesture-language 
when  he  descends  to  commoner  levels.  It  is  not  only 
that  a  fine  speaker  has  a  greater  command  of  words 
and  IS  able  to  dispense  with  auxiliaries — as  a  master 
of  style  can  dispense  with  the  use  of  italics — but  that, 
at  all  events,  in  the  case  of  abstract  thought,  it  is 
untranslatable  into  gesture-speech.  Gestures  are  sug- 
gestions and  reminders  of  things  seen  and  heard. 
They  are  nearly  all  attached  to  objects  or  to  moods, 
and  rival  words  only  when  used  of  every-day  things. 

^  Firnf,  Annual  Eej^ort  of  the  Bureau  of  Ethnology,  Washing, 
ton,  1881. 


1G6  THE  EVOLUTION  OF  LANGUAGE. 


"No  sign  talker,"  Mr.  Romanes  reminds  us,  "with 
any  amount  of  time  at  his  disposal,  could  translate 
into  the  language  of  gesture  a  page  of  Kant."  ^ 

The  next  stage  in  the  Evolution  of  Language  must 
have  been  reached  as  naturally  as  the  Language  of 
gesture  and  tone.  From  the  gesture-language  to 
mixtures  of  signs  and  sounds,  and  finally  to  the 
specialization  of  sound  into  words,  is  a  necessaiy 
transition.  Apart  from  the  fact  that  gestures  and 
tones  have  limits,  circumstances  must  often  have 
arisen  in  the  life  of  early  Man  when  gesture  was  im- 
possible. A  sign  Language  is  of  no  use  when  one 
savage  is  at  one  end  of  a  wood  and  his  wife  at  the 
other.  He  must  now  roar ;  and  to  make  his  roar  ex- 
plicit, he  must  have  a  vocabulary  of  roars,  and  of  all 
shades  of  roars.  Li  the  darkness  of  night  also,  his 
signs  are  useless,  and  he  must  now  whisper  and  have 
a  vocabulary  of  whispers.  Nor  is  it  difficult  to  con- 
ceive where  he  got  his  first  brief  list  of  words. 
Instead  of  drawing  things  in  the  air  with  his  finger, 
he  would  now  try  to  imitate  their  sounds.  Every- 
thing around  him  that  conveyed  any  impression  of 
sound  would  have  associated  with  it  some  self-ex- 
pressive word,  which  all  familiar  with  the  original 
sound  could  instantly  recognize.  Imagine,  for  in- 
stance, a  herd  of  buffalo  browsing  in  a  glade  of  the 
Afi'ican  forest.  The  vanguard,  some  little  distance 
from  its  neighbors,  hears  the  low  growl  of  a  lion. 
Tliat  growl,  of  course,  is  Language,  and  the  buffalo 
understands  it  as  well  as  we  do  when  the  word  "lion" 
is  pronounced.  Between  the  word  "lion"  spoken, 
and  the  object  lion  growled,  there  is  no  difference  in 
^  Mental  Evolution,  p.  147. 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF  LANGUAGE.  1G7 

the  effect.  Suppose,  next,  the  buffah3  \vished  to  con- 
vey to  its  comrades  the  knowledge  that  a  lion  was 
near,  a  lion  and  not  some  other  animal,  it  might 
imitate  this  growl.  It  is  not  likely  that  it  would  do 
so ;  some  other  sign  expressing  alarm  in  general 
would  probably  be  used,  for  the  disciimination  of  the 
different  sources  of  danger  is  probably  an  achieve- 
ment beyond  this  animal's  power.  But  if  Primitive 
Man  was  placed  under  the  same  circumstances,  grant- 
ing that  he  had  begun  in  a  feeble  way  to  exercise 
mind,  he  would  almost  certainly  come  in  time  to 
denote  a  lion  by  an  imitated  growl,  a  wolf  by  an 
imitated  whine,  and  so  on.  The  sighing  of  the  wind, 
the  flowing  of  the  stream,  the  beat  of  the  surf,  the 
note  of  the  bird,  the  chirp  of  the  grasshopper,  the  hiss 
of  the  snake,  would  each  be  used  to  express  these 
things.  And  gradually  a  Language  would  be  built  up 
which  included  all  the  things  in  the  environment  with 
wdiich  sound  was  either  directly,  indirectly,  or  acci- 
dentally associated. 

That  this  method  of  word-making  is  natural  is  seen 
in  the  facility  with  which  it  is  still  used  by  children ; 
and  from  the  early  age  at  which  they  begin  to  employ 
it,  the  sound  Language  is  clearly  one  of  the  veiy  first 
forms  of  speech.  All  a  child's  %vords  are  of  course 
gathered  through  the  sense  of  hearing,  but  if  it  can 
itself  pick  up  a  word  direct  from  the  object,  it  will  use 
it  long  before  it  elects  to  repeat  the  conventional 
name  taught  it  by  its  nurse.  The  child  who  says  moo 
for  cow,  or  boic-wovj  for  dog,  or  tick-tick  for  watch,  or 
pt/ff-pifjf  for  train,  is  an  authority  on  the  origin  of 
human  speech.  Its  father,  when  he  talks  of  the  ham 
of  machinery  or  the  boom  of  the  cannon,  when  he  calls 


168  THE  EVOLUTION  OF  LANGUAGE. 

champagne  ^fizz  or  a  less  aristocratic  heverag-e  poj),  is 
following  in  the  M'ake  of  the  inventors  of  Language. 
Among  savage  peoples,  and  especially  those  en- 
countering the  first  rush  of  new  things  and  thoughts 
brought  them  by  the  advancing  wave  of  civilization, 
word-making  is  still  going  on ;  and  wherever  possible 
the  favorite  principle  seems  to  be  that  of  sound.^ 

How  full  all  Languages  are  of  these  sound- words  is 
known  to  the  philologist,  though  nmltitudes  of  words 
in  every  Language  have  had  their  pedigree  effaced  or 
obscured  by  time.  "  An  Englishman  Avould  hardly 
guess  from  the  present  pronunciation  and  meaning  of 
the  word  pipe  what  its  origin  was  ;  yet  when  he 
compares  it  with  the  Low  Latin  pipa,  French  pipe, 
pronounced  more  like  our  word  peep,  to  chirp,  and 
meaning  such  a  reed-pipe  as  shepherds  played  on,  he 
then  sees  how  cleverly  the  very  sound  of  the  musical 
pipe  has  been  made  into  a  word  for  all  kinds  of  tubes, 
such  as  tobacco-pipes  and  water-pipes.  Words  like 
this  travel  like  Indians  on  the  war-path,  wiping  out 
their  footmarks  as  they  go.     For  all  we  know  multi- 

1  Among  the  C'oral  Islands  of  the  Pacific  the  savages  every- 
where speak  of  the  white  residents  in  New  Caledonia  as  the 
]]^ee-ioee  men,  or  Wee-ivees.  Cannibals  on  a  dozen  different 
islands,  speaking  as  many  languages,  have  all  this  name  in  com- 
mon. New  Caledonia  is  a  French  Penal  Settlement,  containing 
thousands  of  French  convicts,  and  one's  first  crude  thought  is  that 
the  Wee-wees  are  so  named  from  their  size.  A  moment's  re- 
flection, however,  shows  that  it  is  taken  from  their  sounds — that 
in  fact  we  have  here  a  very  pretty  example  of  modern  onomato- 
poeia. These  convicts,  freed  or  escaped,  find  their  way  over  the 
Pacific  group  ;  and  the  natives,  seizing  at  once  upon  their 
characteristic  sound,  know  them  as  Oid-ouVs — a  name  which 
has  now  become  general  for  all  Frenchmen  in  the  Sonthern 
Pacific. 


THE  EVOL U TION  OF  LANG UA GE.  169 


tildes  of  our  ordinary  words  may  have  thus  been  made 
from  real  sounds,  but  have  now  lost  beyond  recovery 
the  ti'aces  of  their  first  expressiveness."  ^  In  tlie 
Cliinuk  language  of  tlie  West  Coast  of  America,  to  cite 
a  few  more  of  Tylor's  instances,  a  tavern  is  called  a 
"  heehee-honsi'^''  that  is  a  laiigliter  house,  or  an  amuse- 
ment house,  tlie  word  for  amusement  being-  taken  by 
an  obvious  association  from  the  laughter  which  it  ex- 
cites. How  indirect  Ji  derivation  may  be  is  illustrated 
by  the  word  which  the  Basutos  of  South  Africa  use 
for  courtier.  The  buzz  of  a  certain  fly  resembles  the 
sound  ntsi-iitsi,  and  they  apply  this  word  to  those  who 
buzz  round  the  chief  as  a  fly  buzzes  round  a  piece  of 
meat.  As  every  one  knows  "  papa  "  for  father,  is 
evolved  into  papa  the  pope,  and  "  abba '"  the  Hebrew 
for  father  into  abbot.  For  plurals,  a  doubling  of  the 
word  is  often  used,  but  no  doubt  at  first  quantity  was 
expi'essed  by  gestures  or  by  numbering  on  the  fingers. 
"  Orang  "  is  the  Malay  for  i\Ian,  "  Orang-orang  "  for 
men  while  "Orang-utan"  is  wild  man.  A'erbs  are 
formed  on  the  same  principle  as  nouns.  In  the 
Teciina  language  of  Brazil  the  verb  to  sneeze  is 
/laitschu,  while  the  Welsh  for  a  sneeze  is  //.s'.  Other 
verbs  which  came  to  have  large  and  comprehensive 
meanings  arose  out  of  the  simple  activities  and  oc- 
cupations of  primitive  life.  Thus  the  first  verb  in  the 
Bible,  the  Hebrew  "  bara  "  now  meaning  create,  was 
originally  used  for  cutting  or  hewing,  the  first  step  in 
making  things.  In  the  Borneo  language  of  Africa,  the 
verb  "to  make"  comes  from  the  word  iando,  to  weave. 
In  English,  "  to  suft'er  "  meant  to  bear  as  a  burden, 
and  to  "  apprehend  an  idea  "  was  originally  to  "  catch 
1  Tylor,  Anl/iropoloijyy  p.  127. 


170  THE  EVOLUTION  OF  LANGUAGE. 

hold  "  of  some  "  sight."  Even  Max  Mtiller  who  op- 
poses the  onomatopoetic  theory  with  regard  to  the 
origin  of  most  words,  agrees  that  tlie  sonnds  of  the 
occupation  of  men,  and  especially  of  men  working 
together,  and  making  special  sounds  at  their  task — 
such  as  builders,  soldiers,  and  sailors — are  widely  rep- 
resented in  modern  speech. 

Though  mimicry,  sometimes  exact,  but  probably 
more  often  a  mere  echo  or  suggestion  of  the  sound  to 
be  recalled,  is  responsible  for  some  of  the  material  of 
Language,  multitudes  of  words  appear  to  have  no  such 
origin.  There  are  infinitely  more  words  than  sounds 
in  the  world ;  and  even  things  which  have  very  dis- 
tinct sounds  have  been  named  without  any  regard  to 
them.  The  inventors  of  the  word  vxitc/i,  for  instance, 
did  not  call  it  tick-tick  but  v:atc/i,  the  idea  being  taken 
from  the  vKitchman  who  walked  about  at  night  and 
kept  the  time ;  and  when  the  steam-engine  appeared, 
instead  of  taking  the  obvious  sound-name  pvjf-jyujf,  it 
was  called  engine  (Lat.  ingenuim),  to  signify  that  it 
was  a  work  of  (jenius.  These  modern  words,  however, 
are  the  coinages  of  an  intellectual  age,  and  it  was  to 
be  expected  that  the  inventors  should  look  deeper 
below  the  surface.  IIow  those  words  which  have  no 
apparent  association  with  sound  were  formed  in  early 
times  remains  a  mystery.  With  some  the  original 
sound-association  has  probably  been  lost ;  in  the  case 
of  others,  the  association  may  have  been  so  indirect  as 
to  be  now  untraceable.  The  sounds  available  in  sav- 
age life  for  Avord-making  could  never  have  been  so 
numerous  as  the  things  requiring  names,  and  as  civili- 
zation advanced  the  old  words  would  be  used  in  new 
connections,  while  wholly  new  terms  must  have  been 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF  LANGUAGE.  171 

coined  from  time  to  time.  Both  these  methods — the 
hahit  of  generalizing  iinconsciousl}^  from  single  terms, 
and  the  trick  of  coining  new  words  in  a  wholly  con- 
ventional way — are  still  continually  employed  by  sav- 
ages as  well  as  by  children.  Thus,  to  take  an  example 
of  the  first,  IMr.  John  Moir,  one  of  the  earliest  white 
men  to  settle  in  East  Central  Africa,  was  at  once 
named  hy  Ihe  natives  Mandula^  which  means  "a  re- 
flection in  still  water,"  because  he  wore  on  his  eyes 
what  looked  to  them  a  s^/*'/  vuiter  (spectacles).  After- 
Avards  they  came  to  call  not  only  JNIr.  Moir  by  that 
name,  but  spectacles,  and  finally — when  it  entered 
the  country — glass  itself.  Examples  of  generalization 
among  children  abound  in  every  nursery.  A  child  is 
taken  to  the  Avindow  by  his  nurse  to  see  the  moon. 
The  easy  inonosyllable  is  caught  up  at  once,  and  for 
some  time  the  child  a))plies  it  indiscriminately  to  any- 
thing bright  or  shining — the  gas,  the  candle,  the  fire- 
light are  each  "  the  moon."  j\lr.  Romanes  records  a 
case  where  a  child  made  a  similar  use  of  the  word  star 
— the  gas,  the  candle,  the  firelight  were  each  "  a  star." 
If  the  makers  of  Language  proceeded  on  this  principle, 
no  wonder  the  philologist  has  riddles  to  read.  IIow 
often  must  the  savage  children  of  the  world  have 
started  ott'  naming  things  from  two  such  different 
points  ?  JMr.  Romanes  mentions  a  still  more  elaborate 
example  which  was  furnislied  him  by  jMr.  Darwin  : 
"The  child,  who  was  just  beginning  to  speak,  called  a 
duck  'quack,'  and,  l)y  special  association,  it  also  called 
water  'quack.'  By  an  apiireciation  of  the  resemblance 
of  qualities,  it  next  extended  the  term  '  quaclc '  to 
denote  all  birds  and  insects  on  the  one  hand,  and  all 
fluid  substances  on  the  other.     Lastly,  by  a  still  more 


172  THE  EVOLUTIO.W  OF  LANGUAGE. 


delicate  appreciation  of  resemblance,  the  child  eventu- 
ally called  all  coins  '  quack,'  because  on  the  back  of  a 
French  sou  it  had  once  seen  the  representation  of  an 
eagle.  Hence,  to  the  child,  the  sign  '  qnack,'  from 
having  oi'iginally  had  a  very  specialized  meaning,  be- 
came more  and  more  extended  in  its  significance,  until 
it  now  seems  to  designate  such  apparently  different 
objects  as  '  fly,'  '  wine,'  and  '  coin.'  "  ^ 

Tlie  instructiveness  of  tliis,  in  showing  the  reason 
why  philology  is  often  so  helplessly  at  a  loss  in  track- 
ing far-strayed  words  to  their  original  sense,  is  plain. 
In  the  nature  of  the  case,  the  onomatopoetic  theory 
can  never  be  proved  in  more  than  a  fraction  of  cases. 
So  cunning  is  the  mind  in  associating  ideas,  so  swift 
in  making  new  departures,  that  the  clue  to  multitudes 
of  words  must  be  obliterated  by  tiine,  even  if  the  first 
forms  and  spellings  of  the  words  themselves  remain 
in  their  original  integrity— which  rarely  happens — to 
oft'er  a  feasible  point  to  start  the  search  from. 

But  it  is  far  from  necessary  to  assume  that  all 
words  should  have  had  a  rational  ancestry.  On  the 
contrary  many  Avords  are  prf)bably  deliberate  artifi- 
cial inventions.  When  not  only  every  human  being, 
but  evei'y  savage  and  every  cliild  has  the  ability  as 
well  as  the  right  to  call  anything  it  likes  by  any  name 
it  chooses,  it  is  vain  in  ev^ery  case  to  seek  for  any  gen- 
eral principle  underlying  the  often  arbitrary  conjunc- 
tions of  letters  and  sounds  which  we  call  words. 
Words  cannot  all  at  least  be  treated  with  the  same 
scientific  regard  as  we  would  ti-eat  organic  forms. 
When  dissected,  in  the  nature  of  the  case,  they  cannot 
be  expected  to  reveal  specific  structure  such  as  one 
1  Mental  Evolution,  p.  280. 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF  LANGUAGE.  173 

finds  in  a  fern  or  a  cray-fish.  A  fern  or  a  cray-fish 
is  the  expression  of  an  infinitely  subtle  and  intricate 
adaptation,  while  a  word  may  be  a  mere  caprice. 
Perhaps,  indeed,  the  greatest  marvel  about  philology 
is  that  there  should  be  a  philology  at  all — that 
Languages  should  be  so  rich  in  association,  so 
pregnant  with  the  history  and  poetry  of  the  past. 
Into  the  problem,  therefore,  of  how  the  infinite 
variety  of  words  in  a  Language  was  acquired  it  is 
unnecessary  to  enter  at  length.  Once  the  idea 
had  dawned  of  expressing  meaning  by  sounds,  the 
formation  of  words  and  even  of  Languages  is  a  mere 
detail.  We  have  probably  all  invented  words.  Al- 
most every  family  of  children  invents  words  of  its 
own,  and  cases  are  known  where  quite  considerable 
Languages  have  been  manufactured  in  the  nursery. 
When  boys  play  at  brigands  and  pirates  they  invent 
pass-words  and  names,  and  from  mere  love  of  secrets 
and  mysteries  concoct  vocabularies  which  no  one  can 
understand  but  themselves. 

This  simple  fact  indeed  has  been  used  wdth  great 
plausibility  to  account  for  differences  in  dialect  among 
ditterent  tribes,  and  even  for  the  partial  origin  of  new 
Languages.  Thus  the  structure  of  the  Lidian  lan- 
guages has  long  puzzled  philologists.  Whitney  in- 
forms us  that  as  regards  the  material  of  expression, 
there  is  "  irreconcilable  diversity  "  among  them. 
"There  are  a  very  considerable  number  of  grou[)S 
between  whose  significant  signs  exist  no  more  appar- 
ent correspondences  than  between  those  of  English, 
Hungarian,  and  Malay  ;  none  namely  which  may  not 
be  merely  fortuitous."  To  account  for  these  dialects 
a  suggestion,  as  interesting  as  it  is  ingenious,  has  been 


174  THE  EVOLUTION  OF  LANGUAGE. 

advanced  by  Dr.  Hale.  Imagine  the  case  of  a  family 
of  Red  Indians,  father,  mother,  and  half  a  dozen 
children,  in  the  vicissitudes  of  war,  cut  off  from  their 
tiibe.  Suppose  the  father  to  be  scalped  and  the 
mother  soon  to  die.  The  little  ones  left  to  themselves 
in  some  lonely  valley,  living  upon  roots  and  herbs, 
would  converse  for  a  time  by  using  the  few  score 
words  they  had  heard  from  their  parents.  But  as 
they  grew  up  they  would  require  new  words  and 
would  therefore  coin  them.  As  they  became  a  tribe 
they  would  require  more  words,  and  so  in  time  a  Lan- 
guage might  arise,  all  the  words  expressive  of  the 
simpler  relations — father,  mother,  tent,  fire — being 
common  to  other  Indian  Languages,  but  all  the  later 
words  purely  arbitrary  and  necessarily  a  standing 
puzzle  to  philology.  The  curious  thing  is  that  this 
theory  is  borne  out  by  some  most  interesting  geo- 
graphical facts.  "  If,  under  such  circumstances,  dis- 
ease, or  the  casualties  of  a  hunter's  life  should  carry 
off  the  parents,  the  survival  of  the  children  would,  it 
is  evident,  depend  mainly  upon  the  nature  of  the 
climate  and  the  ease  with  which  food  could  be  pro- 
cured at  all  seasons  of  the  year.  In  ancient  Europe, 
after  the  present  climatal  conditions  were  established, 
it  is  doubtful  if  a  family  of  children  under  ten  years 
of  age  could  have  lived  through  a  single  winter.  We 
are  not,  therefore,  surprised  to  find  that  no  more  than 
four  or  five  linguistic  stocks  are  represented  in 
Europe.  Of  North  Amei'ica,  east  of  the  Rocky  Mount- 
ains and  north  of  the  tropics,  the  same  may  be  said. 
The  climate  and  the  scarcity  of  food  in  winter  forbid 
us  to  suppose  that  a  brood  of  orphan  children  could 
have  survived,  except  possibly,  by  a  fortunate  chance, 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF  LANGUAGE.  175 

lu  some  favored  spot  on  the  shore  of  the  Mexican  Gnlf, 
where  sliell-fish,  berries,  and  edible  roots  are  abundant 
and  easy  of  access.  But  there  is  one  region  ^Yllere 
Nature  seems  to  offer  herself  as  the  willing  nurse  and 
bountiful  stepmother  of  the  feeble  and  unprotected. 
Of  all  countries  on  the  giobe,  there  is  probably  not 
one  in  which  a  little  flock  of  very  young  children 
would  find  the  means  of  sustaining  existence  more 
readily  than  in  California.  Its  wonderful  climate, 
mild  and  equable  beyond  example,  is  well  known. 
Half  the  months  are  rainless.  Snow  and  ice  are 
almost  strangers.  There  are  fully  two  hundred  cloud- 
less days  in  every  year.  Roses  bloom  in  the  open  air 
through  all  seasons.  Berries  of  many  sorts  are  in- 
digenous and  abundant.  Large  fruits  and  edible  nuts 
on  low  and  pendant  boughs  may  be  said  in  jMilton's 
phrase  to  '  hang  amiable.'  Need  we  wonder  that  in 
such  a  mild  and  fruitful  region,  a  great  number  of 
separate  tribes  Avere  found  speaking  languages  which 
careful  investigation  has  classed  in  nineteen  distinct 
linguistic  stocks  ?  "  ^  Even  more  striking  is  the  case 
of  Oregon  on  the  Californian  border,  which  is  also  a 
favored  and  luxuriant  land.  The  number  of  linguistic 
stocks  in  this  narrow  district  is  more  than  twice  as 
large  as  in  the  whole  of  Europe.- 

^  Dr.  Hale.     Cf.  Uomanes,  Mental  EKolutlon  in  Man,  p.  2G0. 

2  The  construction  of  the  mouth  and  lips  has  of  course  had 
something  to  do  with  differences  in  Languages,  and  even  with 
tlie  possibility  of  language  in  the  case  of  ^NFan.  You  must  have 
your  trumpet  before  you  can  get  the  sound  of  a  trumpet.  One 
reason  why  many  animals  have  no  speech  is  simply  that  they 
have  not  the  mechanism  which  by  any  possibility  could  produce 
it.  They  might  have  a  Language,  but  nothing  at  all  like  human 
I>anguago.     It  is  one  of  the  significant   notes  in  Evolution  that 


176  THE  EVOLUTION  OF  LANGUAGE. 

In  such  ways  as  these  we  may  conceive  of  early 
Man  buildmg  up  the  fabric  of  speecli.  In  time  his 
vocabulary  would  enlarge  and  become,  so  far  as  ob- 
jects in  the  immediate  environment  were  concei'ned, 
fairly  complete.  As  Man  gained  more  knowledge  of 
the  things  around  him,  as  he  came  into  larger  relations 
with  his  fellows,  as  life  became  more  rich  and  com- 
plex, this  accumulation  of  words  would  go  on,  each 
art  as  it  was  introduced  creating  new  terms,  each 
science  pouring  in  contributions  to  the  fund,  until  the 
materials  of  human  speech  became  more  and  more 
complete.  This  process  was  never  finished.  The 
evolution  of  Language  is  still  going  on.  No  corrobo- 
ration of  the  theory  of  the  evolution  of  Language  could 
be  more  perfect  than  the  simple  fact  that  it  has  gone 
on  steadily  down  to  the  present  hour  and  is  going  on 
now.  Tens  of  thousands  of  words — no  longer  now 
onomatopoetic — have  been  evolved  since  Johnson  corn- 
Man,  almost  alone  among  vertebrates,  has  a  material  body  so  far 
developed  as  to  make  it  an  available  instrument  for  speech. 
There  was  almost  certainly  a  time  when  this  was  to  him  a  physi- 
cal impossibility. 

"The  acquisition  of  articulate  speech,"  says  Prof.  Macalaster, 
"became  possible  to  man  only  when  the  alveolar  arch  and  pala- 
tine area  became  shortened  and  widened,  and  when  his  tongue, 
by  its  accommodation  to  the  modifit-d  mouth,  became  shorter 
and  more  horizontally  flattened,  and  the  higher  refinements  of 
I^ronunciation  depend  for  their  production  upon  the  more  exten- 
sive modifications  in  the  same  direction."  Even  for  differences 
in  dialect,  as  the  same  writer  jioints  out,  there  is  a  physical  basis. 
"  With  the  macrodont  alveolar  arch  and  the  corresponding  modi- 
fied tongue,  sibilation  is  a  difficult  feat  to  accomplish,  and  hence 
the  sibilant  sounds  are  practically  unknown  in  all  the  Austra- 
lian dialects." — British  Association  ;  Anthropological  Section. 
Edinb.,  1891. 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF  LANGUAGE.  177 

piled  his  dictionary,  and  every  year  sees  additions  not 
only  to  technical  terms  but  to  the  language  of  the 
people.  The  English  Language  is  now  being  grown 
on  two  or  three  different  kinds  of  soil,  and  the  differ- 
ent fruits  and  flavors  that  result  ai-e  intercharged  and 
mixed,  to  enrich,  or  adulterate,  the  common  English 
tongue.  The  mere  fact  that  Language-making  is  a  liv- 
ing art  at  the  present  hour,  if  not  an  argument  against 
the  theory  that  Language  is  a  special  gift,  at  least 
shows  that  Man  has  a  special  gift  of  making  Langutige. 
If  Man  could  manufacture  words  in  any  quantity,  there 
was  little  reason  why  he  should  have  been  presented 
with  them  ready-made.  The  power  to  manufacture 
them  is  gift  enough,  and  none  the  less  a  gift  that  we 
know  some  of  the  steps  by  which  it  was  given,  or  at 
least  through  which  it  was  exercised.  But  if  the  very 
words  were  given  him  as  they  stand,  it  is  more  than 
singular  that  so  many  of  them  should  bear  traces  of 
another  origin.  Even  Trench  at  this  point  succumbs 
to  the  theory  of  development,  and  his  testimony  is  the 
more  valuable  that  it  is  evidently  so  very  much  against 
the  grain  to  admit  it.  He  begins  by  stating  appar- 
ently the  opposite: — "The  truer  answer  to  the  inquiry 
how  language  arose  is  this :  God  gave  man  language 
just  as  lie  gave  him  reason,  and  just  because  lie  gave 
him  reason  ;  for  what  is  man's  vord  but  his  reason 
coming  forth  that  it  may  behold  itself?  They  are  in- 
deed so  essentially  one  and  the  same  that  tlie  Greek 
language  has  one  Avord  for  them  both.  He  gave  it  to 
him,  because  he  could  not  be  man,  that  is,  a  social  be- 
ing, without  it."  Yet  he  is  too  profound  a  student  of 
words  to  fail  to  qualify  this,  and  had  he  failed  to  do  so 
every  page  in  his  well-known  book  had  judged  him. 
12 


178  THE  EVOLUTION  OF  LANGUAGE. 

"  Yet,"  he  continues,  "  this  must  not  be  taken  to  affirm 
that  man  started  at  the  first  furnished  with  a  full- 
formed  vocabulary  of  words,  and  as  it  were  with  his 
first  dictionary  and  first  grammar  ready-made  to 
his  hands.  He  did  not  thus  begin  the  world  with 
names.,  but  vnth  the  j)ower  ofnmning:  for  man  is  not  a 
mere  speaking  machine ;  God  did  not  teach  him 
words,  as  one  of  us  teaches  a  parrot,  from  without; 
but  gave  him  a  capacity,  and  then  evoked  the  capacity 
which  he  gave.^" 

If  the  theory  just  given  as  to  the  formation  of 
Language,  or  at  least  as  to  the  possible  formation  of 
Language,  be  more  than  a  fairy  tale,  there  is  another 
quarter  in  which  corroboration  of  an  important  kind 
should  lie.  Hitherto  we  have  examined  as  witnesses, 
the  makers  of  words ;  it  may  be  wortli  while  for  a 
moment  to  place  hi  the  witness-box  the  words  them- 
selves. A  chemist  has  two  methods  of  determining 
the  composition  of  any  body,  analysis  and  synthesis. 
Having  seen  how  words  may  be  built  up,  it  remains 
for  us  to  see  whether  on  analysis  they  bear  trace  of 
having  been  built  up  in  the  way,  and  from  the  ele- 
ments, suggested.  Comparative  Philology  has  now 
made  an  actual  investigation  into  the  words  and 
structure  of  all  known  Languages,  and  the  informa- 
tion sought  by  the  evolutionist  lies  ready-made  to  his 
hand.  So  far  as  controversy  might  be  expected  to 
arise  here  on  the  theory  of  development  itself,  there 
is  none.  For  the  first  fact  to  interest  us  in  this  new 
region  is  that  every  student  of  Language  seems  to 
have  been  compelled  to  give  in  his  adherence  to  the 
general  theory  of  Evolution.  All  agree  with  Renan 
1  Archhisliop  Trench,  The  Study  of  Words,  pp.  14,  15. 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF  LANGUAGE.  179 

that  "  Sans  cloubte  les  langues,  comme  tout  ce  qui 
est  organise,  sont  sujettes  a  la  loi  du  development 
graduel."  And  even  Max  Miiller,  the  least  thorough- 
going from  an  evolutionary  point  of  view  of  all  philol- 
ogists, asserts  that  "  no  student  of  the  science  of  Lan- 
guage can  be  anything  but  an  evolutionist,  for,  wher- 
ever he  looks,  he  sees  nothing  but  evolution  going  on 
all  around  him." 

The  outstanding  discovery  of  the  dissector  of 
words  is  that,  vast  and  complex  as  Languages  ap- 
pear, they  are  really  composed  of  few  and  simple 
elements.  Take  the  word  "evolutionary."  The  ter- 
mination "  ary  "  is  a  late  addition  added  to  this  and 
to  thousands  of  other  words  for  a  special  purpose ; 
the  same  applies  to  the  syllable  "tion."  The  first 
letter  e  distinguishes  evolution  from  convolution, 
revolution,  involution,  and  is  also  a  later  growth. 
None  of  these  extra  syllables  is  of  first  importance; 
by  themselves  they  have  almost  no  meaning.  The 
part  which  will  not  disappear  or  melt  away  into  mere 
grammar,  on  wliich  the  stress  of  the  sense  hangs,  is 
the  syllable  "vol  "  or  "  volv,"  and,  so  far  as  the  English 
language  is  concerned,  it  is  to  be  looked  upon  as  the 
root.  By  running  it  to  earth  in  older  languages  its 
source  is  found  in  a  still  more  radical  word,  and 
therefore  it  must  next  be  blotted  out  of  the  list  of 
primitive  words.  By  patient  comparison  of  all  other 
words  with  all  other  words,  of  Languages  with 
Languages,  and  apparent  roots  with  apparent  roots, 
the  supposed  primitive  roots  of  Language  have  been 
found.  Just  as  all  the  multifarious  objects  in  the 
material  world — water,  air,  earth,  fl(!sh,  bone,  wood, 
iron,  paper,  cloth — are  resolvable  by  tlie  chemist  into 


ISO  THE  EVOLUTION  OF  LANGUAGE. 

some  sixty-eight  elements,  so  all  the  words  in  each 
of  the  three  or  four  great  groups  of  Language  yield 
on  the  last  analysis  only  a  few  hundred  original  roots. 
That  still  further  analysis  may  hreak  doAvn  some  or 
many  of  these  is  not  impossible.  But  the  facts  as 
they  stand  are  all  significant.  Tlie  furtlier  we  go 
back  into  the  past  the  Languages  become  thinner  and 
thinner,  the  words  fewer  and  fewer,  the  grammar 
poorer  and  poorer.  Of  tlie  thousand  known  Lan- 
guages it  has  been  found  possible  to  reduce  all  to  three 
or  four— probably  three — great  families ;  and  each  of 
these  in  turn  is  capable  of  almost  unlimited  philo- 
logical pruning.  In  analyzing  the  Sanskrit  language, 
Professor  Max  Muller  reduces  its  whole  vocabulary  to 
121  roots— the  121  "original  concepts."  "These  121 
concepts  constitute  the  stock-in-trade  with  which  I 
maintain  that  every  thouglit  tliat  has  ever  passed 
through  the  mind  of  India,  so  far  as  known  to  us  in 
its  literature,  has  been  expressed.  It  would  have  been 
easy  to  reduce  tliat  number  still  further,  for  there  ai-e 
several  among  them  whicli  could  be  ranged  together 
under  more  general  concepts.  But  I  leave  this 
further  reduction  to  others,  being  satisfied  as  a  first 
attempt  with  having  shown  how  small  a  number  of 
seeds  may  produce,  and  has  produced,  the  enormous 
intellectual  vegetation  that  has  covered  the  soil  of 
India  from  the  most  distant  antiquity  to  the  present 
day.'^  1 

That  a  "  first  attempt "  should  have  succeeded  in 
reducing  this  vast  family  of  Languages  to  121  words 
is  significant.  The  exhumation  by  philology  of  this 
early  cluster  reminds  one  of  the  discovery  of  the  seg- 

^Scicnce  of  I'hnvf/Jil,  p.  .")49. 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF  LANGUAGE.  181 

mentecl  ovum  in  embryology.  Such  clusters  appear 
at  an  early  stage  in  the  history  of  all  developments. 
The  processes  which  precede  this  stage  are  of  the 
utmost  subtlety,  but  in  embryology  they  have  yielded 
to  the  latter  analysis  of  the  microscope.  So  it  may  be 
one  day  with  the  natural  history  of  Language.  We 
may  never,  for  obvious  reasons,  get  back  to  the  actual 
beginning,  but  we  may  get  nearer.  When  the  eni- 
bryologist  reached  his  cluster  of  cells  in  the  segmented 
ovum,  he  did  not  believe  he  had  found  the  dawn  of 
life.  What  further  tlie  philologist  may  find  remains 
a  mystery.  Where  these  121  words  came  from  may 
never  be  known.  But  the  development  from  that 
point  sufficiently  shows  that  words,  like  everything 
else,  have  followed  the  universal  law,  and  that  Lan- 
guages, starting  from  small  beginnings,  have  grown 
in  volume,  intricacy,  and  richness,  as  time  rolled  on. 
"  All  philologists,"  says  Romanes,  "  will  now  agree 
with  Geiger — '  Language  diminishes  the  further  we 
look  back,  in  such  a  way  that  we  cannot  forbear  con- 
cluding it  must  once  have  had  no  existence  at  all.' " 

The  history  of  progress  for  a  long  time  henceforth 
is  the  history  of  the  progress  of  Language  and  the 
increase  in  intelligence  which  necessarily  went  along 
with  it.  From  being  able  to  say  what  he  knew,  Man 
went  on  to  write  what  he  knew.  The  Evolution  of 
writing  went  through  the  same  general  stages  as  the 
Evolution  of  Speech.  First  there  was  the  onomato- 
poetic  writing — as  it  were,  the  gi'owl-writing — the  ideo- 
graph, the  imitation  of  an  actual  object.  This  is  the 
form  we  find  fossil  in  the  Egyptian  hieroglyphic.  For 
a  man  a  man  was  drawn,  for  a  camel  a  camel,  for  a 
hut  a  hut.     Then  intonation  was  added — accents,  that 


182  THE  EVOLUTION  OF  LANGUAGE. 

is,  for  extra  meaning  or  extra  emphasis.  Then  to 
save  time  the  objects  were  drawn  in  shorthand — a 
couple  of  dashes  for  the  limbs  and  one  across,  as  in 
the  Chinese  for  man ;  a  square  in  the  same  language 
for  a  field ;  two  strokes  at  an  obtuse  angle,  suggesting 
the  roof,  for  a  house.  To  express  further  qualities, 
these  abbreviated  pictures  were  next  compounded  in 
ingenious  ways.  A  man  and  a  field  together  conveyed 
the  idea  of  wealth,  and  because  a  man  with  a  field  was 
rich,  he  was  supposed  to  be  happy,  and  the  same  com- 
bination stood,  and  stands  to  this  day,  for  content- 
ment. When  a  roof  is  drawn  and  a  woman  beneath 
it — or  the  strokes  which  represent  a  roof  and  a  woman 
— we  have  the  idea  of  a  woman  at  home,  a  woman  at 
peace,  and  hence  the  symbol  comes  to  stand  for  quiet- 
ness and  rest.  Chinese  writing  is  picture-writing, 
with  the  pictures  degenerated  into  dashes — a  lingual 
form  of  the  modern  impressionism. 

When  writing  was  fully  evolved,  this  height  was 
only  the  starting-point  for  some  new  development. 
Every  summit  in  Evolution  is  the  base  of  some 
grander  peak.  Speech,  M'hether  by  writing  or  by 
spoken  word,  is  too  crude  and  slow  to  keep  pace  with 
the  needs  of  the  now  swiftly  ascending  mind.  Man's 
larger  life  demands  a  further  specialization  of  this 
power.  He  learned  to  sj^eak  at  first  because  he 
could  not  convey  his  thoughts  to  his  Avife  at  the  other 
side  of  the  wood.  It  was  Space  that  made  him  speak. 
He  now  learns  to  speak  better  because  he  cannot  con- 
vey his  thoughts  to  the  other  end  of  the  world.  This 
new  distance-language  began  again  at  the  beginning, 
just  as  all  Language  does,  by  employing  signs.  Man 
invented  the  telegraph — a  little  needle  which  makes 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF  LANGUAGE.  183 

signs  to  some  one  at  the  other  side  of  the  world.  The 
telegraph  is  a  gesture-langnage,  and  is  therefore  only 
a  primitive  stage.  Man  found  this  out  and  from  signs 
went  on  to  sounds — he  invented  the  telephone.  By 
all  the  traditions  of  Evolution  this  marvellous  instru- 
ment ought  to  be,  and  is  even  now  on  the  verge  of  be- 
ing, the  vehicle  of  the  distance-language  of  the  future. 
Is  this  the  end?  It  is  by  no  means  likely.  The 
mind  is  feeling  about  already  for  more  perfect  forms 
of  human  intercourse  than  telegraphed  or  telephoned 
words.  As  there  was  a  stage  in  the  ascent  of  Man  at 
which  the  body  was  laid  aside  as  a  finished  product, 
and  made  to  give  way  to  Mind,  thei'e  may  be  a  stage 
in  the  Evolution  of  Mind  when  its  material  achieve- 
ments— its  body — shall  be  laid  aside  and  give  place 
to  a  higher  form  of  Mind.  Telepathy  has  already 
become  a  word,  not  a  word  for  thought-reading  or 
muscle-reading,  but  a  scientific  word.  It  means  "  the 
ability  of  one  mind  to  impress,  or  to  be  impressed  by 
another  mind  otherwise  than  through  the  recognized 
channels  of  sense."  ^  By  men  of  science,  adepts  in 
mental  analysis,  aware  of  all  sources  of  error,  armed 
against  fraud,  this  subject  is  now  being  made  the 
theme  of  exhaustive  observation.  It  is  too  soon  to 
pronounce.  Practically  we  are  in  the  dark.  But 
there  are  those  in  this  fascinating  and  mysterious 
region  who  tell  us  that  the  possibilities  of  a  more  in- 
timate fellowship  of  man  with  man,  and  soul  with 
soul,  are  not  to  be  looked  u[)on  as  settled  by  our  pres- 
ent views  of  matter  or  of  mind.  However  little  we 
know  of  it,  however  remote  we  are  from  it,  whether  it 
ever  be  realized  or  not,  telepathy  is  theoretically  the 
^Phantasms  of  the  Lhlwj,  p.  6. 


184  THE  EVOLUTION  OF  LANGUAGE. 

next  stage  in  the  Evolution  of  Language.  As  we  have 
seen,  the  introduction  of  speech  into  the  world  was 
delayed,  not  because  the  possibilities  of  it  were  not  in 
Nature,  but  because  the  instrument  was  not  quite 
ready.  Then  the  instrument  came,  and  Man  spoke. 
The  development  of  the  organ  and  the  development  of 
the  function  went  on  together,  arrived  together,  Avere 
perfected  together.  What  delayed  the  gesture-lan- 
guage of  the  telegraph  was  not  that  electricity  was 
not  in  Nature,  but  the  want  of  the  Instrument. 
When  that  came,  the  gesture-language  came,  and  both 
were  perfected  together.  What  delayed  the  telephone 
Avas  not  that  its  principle  was  not  in  Nature,  but  that 
the  instrument  was  not  ready.  What  now  delays  its 
absolute  victory  of  space  is  not  that  space  cannot  be 
bridged,  but  that  it  is  not  ready.  May  it  not  be  that 
that  which  delays  the  power  to  transport  and  drive 
one's  thought  as  thought  to  whatever  spot  one  wills, 
is  not  the  fact  that  the  possibility  is  withheld  by 
Nature,  but  that  the  hour  is  not  quite  come — that  the 
instrument  is  not  yet  fully  ripe?  Are  there  no  signs, 
is  the  feeling  after  it  no  sign,  are  there  not  even  now 
some  facts,  to  warrant  us  in  treating  it,  after  all  that 
Evolution  has  given  us,  as  a  still  possible  gift  to  the 
human  race?  What  strikes  one  most  in  running  the 
eye  up  this  graduated  ascent  is  that  the  movement  is 
in  the  direction  of  what  one  can  only  call  spirituality. 
From  the  growl  of  a  lion  we  have  passed  to  the 
whisper  of  a  soul ;  from  the  motive  fear,  to  the  motive 
sympathy ;  from  the  icy  physical  barriers  of  space,  to 
a  nearness  closer  than  breathing;  from  the  torturing 
slowness  of  time  to  time's  obliteration.  If  Evolution 
reveals  anything,  if  science  itself  proves  anything,  it 


THE  EVOL  UTION  OF  LA NG UA GE.  1 85 

is  that  Man  is  a  spiritual  being  and  that  the  direction 
of  his  long  career  is  towards  an  ever  larger,  richer, 
and  more  exalted  life.  On  the  final  problem  of  Man's 
being  the  voice  of  science  is  supposed  to  be  dumb. 
But  this  gradual  perfecting  of  instruments,  and,  as 
eacli  arrives,  the  further  revelation  of  what  lies  be- 
hind in  Nature,  this  gradual  refining  of  the  mind,  this 
increasing  triumph  over  matter,  this  deeper  knowl- 
edge, this  efilorescence  of  the  soul,  are  facts  which  even 
Science  must  reckon  Avith.  Perhapo,  after  all,  Victor 
Hugo  is  right :  "  I  am  the  tadpole  of  an  archangel." 

Before  closing  this  outline  two  of  the  many  omit- 
ted points  may  be  briefly  referred  to.  In  thinking  of 
Language  as  a  "  discovery,"  it  is  not  necessary  to  as- 
sume that  that  discovery  involved  the  pre-existence 
of  very  liigh  mental  powers.  These  were  probably 
developed  ^«n^«ss«  with  Speech,  but  did  not  neces- 
sarily ante-date  it  to  such  a  degree  as  to  make  tlie 
preceding  argument  ^  petitio  principii.  Obviously  the 
discoveiy  of  Language  could  not  in  the  first  instance 
have  been  responsible  for  the  Evolution  of  Mind,  since 
Man  nnist  already  have  had  Mind  enough  to  discover 
it.  But  this  does  not  necessarily  imply  any  very  high 
grade  of  intellect — very  high,  that  is  to  say,  as  com- 
pared with  other  contemporary  animals — for  it  is  pos- 
sible that  a  comparatively  siiglit  rise  in  intelligence 
might  have  led  to  the  initial  step  from  which  all  the 
others  might  follow  in  rapid  succession.  An  illustra- 
tion, suggested  by  a  remark  of  Cope's,  may  help  to 
make  plain  how  a  very  slight  cause  may  initiate 
changes  of  an  almost  radical  order  and  on  the  most 
gigantic  scale. 


1 SG  THE  EVOL  UTIOX  O F  L A  XG  UA  GE. 

In  part  of  the  Arctic  regions  at  this  moment  there 
is  no  such  thing  as  liquid.  Matter  is  only  known 
there  in  the  solid  form.  The  temperature  may  be 
thirty-one  degrees  below  zero,  or  thirty-one  degrees 
above  zero  without  making  the  slightest  difference; 
there  can  be  nothing  there  but  ice,  glacier,  and  those 
crystals  of  ice  which  we  call  snow.  But  suppose  the 
temperature  rose  two  degrees,  the  difference  would  be 
indescribable.  While  no  change  for  sixty  degrees 
below  that  point  made  the  least  difference,  the  almost 
Inappreciable  addition  of  two  degrees  changes  the 
country  into  a  world  of  water.  The  glaciers,  under 
the  new  conditions,  retreat  into  the  mountains,  the 
vesture  of  ice  drops  into  the  sea,  a  garment  of  green- 
ness clothes  the  land.  So,  in  the  animal  world,  a  very 
small  rise  beyond  the  animal  maximum  may  open  the 
door  for  a  revolution.  With  a  brain  of  so  many  cubic 
inches,  and  so  many  pounds  of  brain  matter,  we  have 
animal  intelligence.  Everything  below  that  limit  is 
animal,  and  the  number  of  inches  or  pounds  below  it 
makes  no  difference.  But  pass  to  a  brain  not  a  few 
but  many  pounds  heavier,  many  cubic  inches  larger, 
and  very  much  more  convoluted,  and  it  is  conceivable 
that  in  passing  from  the  lower  to  the  higher  figures 
some  such  change  might  occur  as  that  which  differ- 
entiates solid  from  liquid  in  the  case  of  water.  What 
the  chemist  calls  a  "  critical  point "  might  thus  be 
passed,  and  from  a  condition  associated  with  certain 
properties — though  in  the  brain  we  must  speak  of 
accompaniments  rather  than  properties — a  condition 
associated  with  certain  other  properties  might  be  the 
result.  Thus,  as  Cope  says,  "  some  Rubicon  has  been 
crossed,  some  flood-gate  has  been  opened,  which  marks 


THE  EVOL  UTION  OF  L  A  NG  UA  GE.  187 

one  of  Xature's  great  transitions,  such  as  have  been 
called  '  expi'ession-points' of  progress."  A  slight  rise 
in  intelligence  might  lead  to  the  first  acquisition  of 
Speech,  and  from  this  point  the  rise  might  he  at  once 
exceedingly  swift  and  in  directions  wholly  new.  The 
illustration  is  not  to  be  taken  for  more  than  it  seeks 
to  illustrate — which  is  not  the  method  of  transition  as 
to  qualitative  detail,  but  simply  the  fact  that  an  ap- 
parently slight  change  may  have  startling  and  indefi- 
nite results. 

The  last  difficulty  is  this.  If  the  connection  be- 
tween Mind  and  Language  is  so  vital,  why  do  not 
Birds,  many  of  which  apparently  speak,  emulate  Man 
in  mental  power?  If  his  speech  is  largely  responsible 
for  his  intelligence,  why  have  not  Birds — the  parrot, 
for  instance — attained  the  same  intelligence  ?  Several 
answers  might  be  suggested  to  the  question,  and  sev- 
eral kinds  of  answers — biological,  physiological,  philo- 
logical, and  psychological.  But  the  real  answer  is  the 
general  one,  that  to  make  animals  human  required 
a  conspiracy  of  circumstances  which  neither  Birds  nor 
any  other  animal  fell  heir  to.  It  was  one  chance  in  a 
million  that  the  multitude  of  co-operating  conditions 
which  pushed  Man  onward  were  fulfilled  ;  and  though 
it  may  never  be  known  what  these  conditions  were,  it 
was  doubtless  from  the  failure  on  the  one  hand  to 
meet  one  or  more  of  them,  and  on  the  other  from  the 
success  with  which  openings  in  other  directions  were 
pursued  by  competing  s[)ecies,  that  Man  was  left  alone 
during  the  later  seons  of  his  ascent. 

The  progenitors  of  Birds  and  the  progenitors  of 
Man  at  a  very  remote  period  were  probably  one.  But 
at  a  certain  point  they  parted  company  and  diverged 


1 88  TllH:  E VOL UTION  OF  LANG UA GE. 

hopelessly  and  forever.  The  Birds  took  one  road,  the 
Vertebrates  another ;  the  Vertebrates  kept  to  the 
ground,  the  Birds  took  to  the  air.  The  consequences 
of  this  expedient  in  the  case  of  the  Birds  were  fatal. 
They  forever  forfeited  the  possibility  of  becoming 
human.  For  observe  the  cost  to  them  of  the  aerial 
mode  of  life.  The  wing  was  made  at  the  expense  of 
the  hand.  With  this  consummate  organ  buried  in 
feathers,  the  use  which  the  higher  Vertebrates  made 
of  it  was  denied  them.  Birds  have  the  bones  for  a 
hand,  could  have  had  a  hand,  but  they  waived  their 
right  to  it.  When  it  is  considered  how  much  Man 
owes  to  the  hand  it  may  be  conceived  how  much  they 
have  lost  by  the  want  of  it.  Had  Man  not  been  a 
"  tool-using  animal,"  he  had  probably  never  become 
a  man  ;  the  Bird,  partly  because  it  placed  itself  out  of 
the  running  here,  has  never  been  anything  but  a  Bird. 
To  one  organism  only  was  it  given  to  keep  on  the 
path  of  progress  from  the  beginning  to  the  end,  and 
so  fulfil  without  deviation  or  relapse  the  final  purpose 
of  Evolution. 


V 
CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  LIFE. 

Matthew  Arnold,  in  a  vvell-rsmerabered  line,  de- 
scribes a  bird  in  Kensington  Gardens  "  deep  in  its  un- 
known day's  employ."  But,  peace  to  the  poet,  its 
employ  is  all  too  certain.  Its  day  is  spent  in  strug- 
gling to  get  a  living ;  and  a  very  hard  day  it  is.  It 
awoke  at  daybreak  and  set  out  to  catch  its  morning 
meal;  but  another  bird  was  awake  before  it,  and  it 
lost  its  chance.  With  fifty  other  breakfastless  birds, 
it  had  to  bide  its  time,  to  scour  the  country ;  to  pros- 
pect the  trees,  the  grass,  the  ground;  to  lie  in  ambush; 
to  attack  and  be  defeated  ;  to  hope  and  be  forestalled. 
At  every  meal  the  same  programme  is  gone  through, 
and  every  day.  As  the  seasons  change  the  pressure 
becomes  more  keen.  Its  supplies  are  exhausted,  and 
it  has  to  take  wing  for  hundreds  and  thousands  of 
miles  to  find  new  hunting-ground.  This  is  how  birds 
live,  and  this  is  how  birds  are  made.  They  are  the 
children  of  Struggle.  Beak  and  limb,  claw  and  wing, 
shape,  strength,  all  down  to  the  last  detail,  are  the  ex- 
pressions of  their  mode  of  life. 

This  is  how  the  early  savage  lived,  and  this  is  how 
he   was   made.     The   first    practical   problem   in   the 

189 


190  THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  LIFE. 

Ascent  of  Man  was  to  get  him  started  on  his  np\A^arcl 
path.  It  was  not  enough  for  Nature  to  equip  him 
with  a  body,  and  plant  his  foot  on  tlie  lowest  rung  of 
the  ladder.  She  nuist  introduce  into  her  economy 
some  great  principle  which  should  secure,  not  for  him 
alone  hut  for  every  living  tiling,  that  they  should  work 
upward  toward  the  top.  The  inertia  of  things  is  such 
that  Avithout  compulsion  they  will  never  move.  And 
so  admirably  has  this  compulsion  been  applied  that  its 
forces  are  hidden  in  the  very  nature  of  life  itself — the 
very  act  of  living  contains  within  it  the  principles  of 
^irogress.  An  animal  cainiot  be  without  becomhig. 
The  first  great  princii)le  into  the  hands  of  which 
this  mighty  charge  was  given  is  the  Struggle  for  Life. 
It  is  one  of  the  chief  keys  for  'unlocking  the  mystery 
of  Man's  Ascent,  and  so  important  in  all  development 
that  Mr.  Darwin  assigns  it  the  supreme  rank  among 
the  factors  in  Evolution.  "  Unless,"  he  says,  "  it  be 
thoroughly  engrained  in  the  mind,  the  whole  economy 
of  Nature,  with  every  fact  on  distribution,  rarity, 
abundance,  extinction,  and  variation,  will  be  dimly 
seen  or  quite  misunderstood."  TIow,  under  the  press- 
ures of  this  great  necessity  to  work  for  a  living,  the 
Ascent  of  ]Man  has  gone  on,  we  have  now  to  inquire. 
Though  not  to  the  extent  that  is  usually  supposed,  yet 
in  part  under  this  stimulus,  he  has  slowly  emerged 
from  the  brute-existence,  and,  entering  a  path  where 
the  possibilities  of  development  are  infiinte,  has  been 
pushed  on  from  stage  to  stage,  without  premedita- 
tion, or  design,  or  thought  on  his  part,  until  he 
arrived  at  that  further  height  A\here,  to  the  uncon- 
scious compulsions  of  a  lower  enviroinnent,  there 
were     added     those    high    incitements    cf    conscious 


THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  LIFE.  191 

ideals  which  completed  the   work  of   creating   hiin  a 
Man. 

Start  with  a  comparatively  unevolved  savage,  and 
see  what  the  Struggle  for  Life  will  do  for  him.  "When 
we  meet  him  first  he  is  sitting,  we  shall  suppose,  in 
the  sun.  T.et  us  also  suppose — and  it  requires  no 
imagination  to  suppose  it — tliat  he  has  no  wish  to  do 
anything  else  than  sit  in  the  sun,  and  lliat  he  is  per- 
fectly contented,  and  pei-fectly  hap[)y.  Nature  around 
him,  visible  and  invisible,  is  as  still  as  he  is,  as  inert 
apparently,  as  unconcerned.  Neither  molests  the  other; 
they  have  no  connection  with  each  other.  Yet  it  is 
not  so.  That  savage  is  the  victim  of  a  conspiracy. 
Nature  has  designs  n})on  him,  ^^■allts  to  do  something 
to  him.  That  sometliing  is  to  move  him.  Why  does 
it  wish  to  move  him  ?  Ijecause  movement  is  work,  and 
work  is  exercise,  and  exercise  may  mean  a  further 
evolution  of  the  part  of  him  that  is  exercised.  IIow 
does  it  set  about  moving  him?  ]>y  moving  itself. 
Everything  else  being  in  motion,  it  is  impossible  for 
him  to  resist.  The  sun  moves  away  to  the  Avest  and 
lie  nuist  move  or  freeze  with  cold.  As  the  sun  con- 
tinues to  move,  twilight  falls  and  wild  animals  move 
from  their  laii's  and  he  nmst  move  oi- be  eaten.  The 
food  he  ate  in  the  n;orning  has  dissolved  and-moved 
a\A'ay  to  nourish  the  cells  of  his  body,  and  more  food 
must  soon  be  moved  to  take  its  place  or  he  must 
starve.  So  he  starts  up,  he  works,  he  seeks  food, 
shelter,  safety  ;  and  those  movements  make  marks  in 
Ids  body,  brace  nniscles,  stinndate  nerves,  quicken 
intelligence,  create  habits,  and  he  l)ecomes  more  able 
and  more  willing  to  re[)eat  tiiese  movements  and  so 
becomes  a  stronger  and  a  higher  man.     JNIultiply  these 


192  THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  LIFE. 

movements  and  you  multiply  him.  Make  him  do 
things  he  has  never  done  before,  and  he  will  become 
what  he  never  was  before.  Let  the  earth  move  round 
in  its  orbit  till  the  sun  is  far  away  and  the  wintei" 
snows  begin  to  fall.  He  must  either  move  away,  and 
move  away  very  fast,  to  find  the  sun  again  ;  or  he  must 
chase,  and  also  very  fast,  some  thick-furred  animal, 
and  kill  it,  and  clothe  himself  with  its  skin.  Thus 
from  a  man  he  has  become  a  hunter,  a  different  kind 
of  a  man,  a  further  man.  He  did  not  wish  to  become 
a  hunter;  he  had  to  become  a  hunter.  All  that  he 
washed  was  to  sit  in  the  sun  and  be  let  alone,  and  but 
for  a  Nature  around  him  which  would  not  rest,  or  let 
him  alone,  he  would  have  sat  on  there  till  he  died. 
The  universe  has  to  be  so  ordered  that  that  which  Man 
would  not  have  done  alone  he  should  be  compelled  to 
do.  In  other  words  it  was  necessary  to  introduce  into 
Nature,  and  into  Human  Nature,  some  such  principle 
as  the  Struggle  for  Life.  For  the  first  law  of  Evolu- 
tion is  simply  the  first  law  of  motion.  "  Every  body, 
continues  in  a  state  of  rest,  or  of  uniform  motion  in  a 
straight  line,  unless  it  is  compelled  by  impressed  forces* 
to  change  that  state."  Nature  supplied  that  savage 
with  the  impressed  forces,  with  something  which  he 
was  compelled  to  respond  to.  Without  that,  he  would 
have  continued  forever  as  he  was. 

Apart  from  the  initial  appetite,  Hunger,  the  stinui- 
lus  of  Environment — that  which 'necessitates  jVhui  to 
struggle  for  life — is  twofold.  The  first  is  inorganic 
nature,  including  heat  and  cold,  climate  and  weather, 
earth,  air,  water — the  material  world.  The  second  is 
the  world  of  life,  comprehending  all  plants  and  ani- 
mals, and  especially  those  animals  against  whom  prim- 


THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  LIFE.  193 

itive  Man  has  always  to  struggle  most — other  primi- 
tive Men.  All  that  Man  is,  all  the  arts  of  life,  all  the 
glHi^of  civilization,  all  the  happiness  and  joy  and  prog- 
T^^ress  of  the  world,  owe  much  of  their  existence  to  that 
,  double  war. 

Follow  it  a  little  further.  Go  back  to  a  time  when 
Man  was  just  emerging  from  the  purely  animal  state, 
when  he  was  in  the  condition  described  by  Mr.  Dar- 
win, "  a  tailed  quadruped  probably  arboreal  iu  its 
habits,"  and  when  iu  his  glimmering  consciousness 
mind  was  feeling  about  for  its  first  uses  in  .snatching 
some  novel  success  in  the  Struggle  for  Life.  This 
hypothetical  creature,  so  far  as  bodily  structure  was 
concerned,  was  presumably  not  very  vigorous.  Had 
he  been  more  vigorous  he  might  never  have  evolved  at 
all ;  as  it  was,  he  fled  for  refuge  not  to  his  body  but  to 
a  stratagem  of  the  Mind.  When  threatened  by  a  com- 
rade, or  pressed  by  an  alien-species,  he  called  in  a 
simple  foreign  aid  to  help  him  in  the  Struggle — the 
branch  of  a  tree.  Whether  the  discovery  was  an  acci- 
dent ;  whether  the  idea  was  caught  from  the  falling  of 
a  bough,  or  a  blow  from  a  branch  waving  in  the  wind, 
is  of  no  consequence.  This  broken  branch  became  the 
first  v-eapon.  It  was  the  father  of  all  dubs.  The  day 
this  discovery  was  made,  the  Struggle  for  Life  took  a 
new  departure.  Hitherto  animals  fought  with  some 
specialized  part  of  their  own  bodies — tooth,  limb,  claw. 
Now  they  took  possession  of  the  armory  of  material 
Nature. 

Thirf  invention  of  the  club  was  soon  followed  by 
another  change.  To  use  a  club  effectively,  or  to  keep 
a  good  look-out  for  enemies  or  for  food,  a  man  muse 
stand  erect.     This  alters  the  ceiiti'c  of  gravity  o^'  t'.ie 

lo 


\ 


194  THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  LIFE. 

body,  and  as  the  act  becomes  a  habit,  subsidiary 
changes  slowly  take  place  in  other  parts.  In  time  the 
erect  position  becomes  confirmed.  Man  owes  what 
Burns  calls  his  "  heaven-erected  face"  to  the  Struggle 
for  Life.  How  recent  this  change  is,  how  new  the 
attitude  still  is  to  him,  is  seen  from  the  simple  fact 
that  even  yet  he  has  not  attained  the  power  of  retain- 
ing the  erect  position  long.  Most  men  sit  down  when 
they  can,  and  so  unnatural  is  the  standing  position,  so 
unstable  tlie  equilibrium,  that  when  slightly  sick  or 
faint,  Man  cannot  stand  at  all. 

Possibly  both  the  erect  position  and  the  Club  had 
another  origin,  but  the  detail  is  immaterial.  This 
"hairy-tailed  quadruped,  arboreal  in  its  habits,"  must 
sometimes  have  wandered  or  been  driven  into  places 
where  trees  were  few  and  far  between.  It  is  conceiv- 
able that  an  animal,  accustomed  to  get  along  mainly 
by  grasping  something,  should  have  picked  up  a 
branch  and  held  it  in  its  hand,  partly  to  use  as  a 
crutch,  partly  as  a  weapon,  and  partly  to  raise  itself 
from  the  ground  in  order  to  keep  a  better  look-out 
in  crossing  treeless  spaces.  An  Orang-outang  may 
now  be  seen  in  the  Zoological  gardens  in  Java, 
which  promenades  about  its  bower  continually  wit'.i 
the  help  of  a  stick,  and  seems  to  prefer  the  erect 
jDosition  so  long  as  the  stick  or  any  support  is  at 
hand. 

The  next  stage  after  the  invention  of  anything  is  to 
improve  upon  it,  or  to  make  a  further  use  of  it.  Both 
these^^fcings  now  happened.  One  day  the  stick, 
wrenched  rapidly  from  the  tree,  happened  to  be  left 
with  a  jagged  end.  The  properties  of  the  2)oi)it  were 
discovered.     Now  there  were  two  classes  of  weapons 


THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  LIFE.  195 

in  the  world — the  blunt  stick  and  the  pointed  stick-^* 
that  is  to  say,  the  Club  and  the  Spear. 

In  using  these  weapons  at  first,  neither  probably 
was  allowed  to  leave  the  hand.  But  already  their 
owners  had  learned  to  hurl  down  branches  from  the 
tree-tops,  and  bombard  their  enemies  with  nuts  and 
fruits.  Hence  they  came  to  throw  their  clubs  and 
spears,  and  so  missiles  were  introduced.  Under  this 
new  use,  the  primitive  weapons  themselves  received 
a  further  specialization.  From  the  heavy  bludgeon 
would  arise  on  the  one  hand  the  shaped  war-club,  and 
on  the  other  the  short  throwing  club,  or  waddy.  The 
spear  would  pass  into  the  throwing  assegai,  or  the 
ponderous  weapon  such  as  the  South  Sea  Islanders 
use  to-day.  From  the  natural  point  of  a  torn  branch 
to  the  sharpening  of  a  point  deliberately  is  the  next 
improvement.  From  rubbing  the  point  against  the 
sharp  edge  of  a  large  stone,  to  picking  up  a  sharp- 
edged  small  stone  and  using  it  as  a  knife,  is  but  a 
step.  So,  by  the  mere  necessities  of  the  Struggle  for 
Life,  development  went  on.  Man  became  a  tool-using 
animal,  and  the  foundations  of  the  Arts  were  laid. 
Next,  the  man  who  threw  his  missile  furthest,  had  the 
best  chance  in  the  Struggle  for  Life.  To  throw  to 
still  greater  distances,  and  with  greater  precision,  he 
sought  out  mechanical  aids — the  bow,  the  boomerang, 
the  throwing-stick,  and  the  sling.  Then  instead  of 
using  his  own  strength  he  borrowed  strength  from 
nature,  mixed  different  kinds  of  dust  together  and 
invented  gunpowder.  All  our  modern  w(^«ions  of 
precision,  from  the  rifle  to  the  long  range^Pm,  are 
evolutions  from  the  missiles  of  the  savage.  These 
suggestions   are   not  mere  fancies ;   in  savage   tribes 


19G  rilE  STRUGGLE  FOR  LIFE. 

existing  in  the  world  to-day  these  different  stages  in 
Evolution  may  still  be  seen. 

After  weapons  of  offence  came  weapons  of  defence. 
At  first  the  lighting  savage  sheltered  himself  at  the 
back  of  a  tree.  Then  when  he  wished  to  pass  to 
another  tree  he  tore  off  part  of  the  bark,  took  it  with 
him,  and  made  the  first  shield.  Where  the  trees  were 
without  suitable  bark,  he  would  plait  his  shield  from 
canes,  grasses,  and  the  midribs  of  the  leaves,  or  con- 
struct them  from  frameworks  of  wood  and  skins.  In 
times  of  peace  these  hollow  shields,  lying  idly  about 
the  huts,  would  find  new  uses — baskets,  cradles,  and, 
in  an  evolved  form,  coracles  or  boats.  In  leisure 
hours  also,  new  virtues  discovered  themselves  in  the 
earlier  implements  of  war  and  of  the  chase.  The 
twang  of  his  bow  suggested  memories  that  were 
pleasant  to  his  ear;  he  kept  on  twanging  it,  and  so 
made  music.  Because  two  bows  twanged  better  than 
one,  he  twanged  two  bows ;  then  he  made  himself  a 
two-stringed  bow  from  the  first,  and  ended  with  a 
"ten-stringed  instrument."  By  and  bye  came  the 
harp  ;  later,  the  violin.  The  whistling  of  the  Mind  in 
a  hollow  reed  prepared  the  way  for  the  flute ;  a  conch- 
shell,  broken  at  the  helix,  gave  him  the  trumpet. 
Two  flints  struck  together  yielded  fire. 

Trifling,  almose  puerile,  as  these  beginnings  look  to 
us  now,  remember  they  were  once  the  serious  realities 
of  life.  The  club  and  spear  of  the  savage  are  toys  to 
us  to-day  ;  but  we  forget  that  the  rude  shafts  of  wood 
which  adorn  our  halls  were  all  the  world  to  early  Man 
and  represented  the  highest  expression  and  daily  in- 
strument of  his  evolution.  These  primitive  weapons 
are  the  pathetic  expression  of  the  world's  first  Strug- 


THE  STUUGGLE  FOR  LIFE.  107 

gle.  As  the  earliest  contribution  of  mankind  to  solve 
its  still  fundamental  difficulty — the  problem  of  Nutri- 
tion— they  are  of  enduring  interest  to  the  human  race. 
So  far  from  being,  as  one  might  suppose,  mere  imple- 
ments of  destruction,  they  are  implements  of  self- 
preservation  ;  they  entered  the  world  not  from  hate 
of  Man  but  for  love  of  life.  Why  was  the  spear  in- 
vented, and  the  sling,  and  the  bow?  In  the  first 
instance  because  ^lan  needed  the  bird  and  the  deer  for 
food.  Why  from  imi:)lements  of  the  chase  did  they 
change  into  implements  of  war?  Because  other  men 
wanted  the  bird  and  the  deer,  and  the  first  possessor, 
as  populations  multiplied,  must  protect  his  food- 
supply.  The^j)arent  of  all  industriesjs  Hunger:  the 
creator  of  civilization  in  its  earlier  forms  is  the  Strug- 
gle for  Life, 

By  hollowing  a  pit  in  the  ground,  planting  his 
spear,  or  a  pointed  stake,  upright  in  the  centre,  and 
covering  the  mouth  with  boughs,  Man  could  trap 
even  the  largest  game.  Wlien  the  climate  became 
cold,  he  stripped  off  the  skin  and  became  the  possessor 
of  clothes.  With  a  stone  for  a  hammer,  he  broke 
open  molluscs  on  the  shore,  or  speared  or  trapped  the 
fish  in  the  shoals.  Digging  for  roots  with  his  pointed 
stick  in  time  suggested  agriculture.  From  imitating 
the  way  wild  fruits  and  grains  were  sown  by  Nature 
he  became  a  gardener  and  grew  crops.  To  possess  a 
crop  means  to  possess  an  estate,  and  to  possess  an 
estate  is  to  give  up  wandering  and  begin  that  more 
settled  life  in  Avhich  all  the  arts  of  industry  nuist 
increase.  Catcliing  the  young  of  wild  animals  and 
kee[)ing  them,  first  as  jilaythings,  then  for  supi)lies  ot 
meat  or  milk,  or,  in  the  case  o£*the  dog,  for  helping  in 


198  THE  STIiL'GGLE  FOR  LIFE. 

the  chase,  he  perceived  the  vakie  of  domestic  animals. 
So  Man  slowly  passed  from  the  animal  to  the  savage, 
so  his  mind  was  tamed,  and  strengthened,  and  bright- 
ened, and  heightened ;  so  the  sense  of  power  grew 
strong,  and  so  virtus,  which  is  to  say  virtue,  was 
born. 

In  struggling  with  Nature,  early  Man  not  only 
found  material  satisfactions :  he  found  himself.  Jt 
was  this  that  made  him,  body,  mind,  character,  and 
disposition ;  and  it  was  this  largely  that  gave  to  the 
world  different  kinds  of  men,  different  kinds  of  bodies, 
minds,  characters,  and  dispositions.  The  first  moral 
and  intellectual  diversifiers  of  men  are  to  be  sought  for 
in  geography  and  geology — in  the  factors  which  deter- 
mine the  circumstances  in  which  men  severally  con- 
duct their  Struggle  for  Life.  If  the  land  had  been  all 
the  same,  the  Struggle  for  Life  had  been  all  the  same, 
and  if  the  Struggle  for  Life  had  been  all  the  same,  life 
itself  had  been  all  the  same. '^ But  to  no  two  sets  of 
men  is  the  world  ever  quite  the  same.  The  theatre 
of  struggle  varies  with  every  degree  of  latitude,  with 
every  change  of  altitude,  with  every  variation  of  soil. 
In  most  countries  three  separate  regions  are  found — 
a  maritime  region,  an  agricultural  region,  a  pastoral 
region.  In  the  first,  the  belt  along  the  shore,  the 
people  are  fishermen;  in  the  second,  the  lowlands 
and  alluvial  plains,  the  people  are  farmers ;  in  the 
third,  the  highlands  and  plateaux,  they  are  shepherds. 
As  men  are  nothing  but  expressions  of  their  en- 
vironments, as  the  kind  of  life  depends  on  how  men 
get  their  living,  each  set  of  men  becomes  changed 
in  different  ways.  The  fisherman's  life  is  a  pre- 
carious   life  ;   he  becomes    hardy,    resolute,    self-re- 


THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  LIFE.  199 

liant.  The  fanner's  life  is  a  settled  life ;  he  becomes 
tame,  he  loves  home,  he  feeds  on  grains  and  fruits 
^Vhich  take  the  heat  out  of  liis  blood  and  make  him 
domestic  and  quiet.  Tlie  shepherd  is  a  wanderer ;  he 
is  much  alone ;  the  monotonies  of  gi'ass  make  him 
dull  and  moody  ;  the  mountains  awe  him  :  tlie  protec- 
tor of  his  flock,  he  is  a  man  of  war.  So  arise  types  of 
men,  types  cf  industries ;  and  by  and  bye,  by  exoga- 
mous  marriage,  blends  of  these  types,  and  further, 
blends  of  infinite  variety.  "  It  is  so  ordered  by 
Nature,  that  by  so  striving  to  live  they  develop  their 
physical  structure:  they  obtain  faiut  glimmerings  of 
reason;  they  think  and  deliberate;  they  become  Man. 
In  the  same  way,  the  primeval  men  have  no  other 
object  than  to  keep  the  clan  alive.  It  is  so  ordered  by 
Nature  that  in  striving  to  preserve  the  existence  of 
the  clan,  they  not  only  iicquire  the  arts  of  agriculture, 
domestication,  and  navigation  :  they  not  only  discover 
fire,  and  its  uses  iu  cooking,  in  war,  and  in  metal- 
lurgy ;  they  not  only  detect  the  hidden  properties  of 
plants,  and  apply  them  to  save  their  own  lives  from 
disease,  and  to  destroy  their  enemies  in  battle ;  they 
not  onl}^  learn  to  manipulate  Nature  and  to  distribute 
water  by  machinery  ;  but  they  also,  by  means  of  the 
life-long  battle,  are  developed  into  moral  beings."  ^ 
Nature  being  "  everything  that  is,"  and  Man  being  in 
every  direction  immersed  in  it  and  dependent  on  it> 
can  never  escape  its  continuous  discipline.  Some  en- 
vironment there  must  always  be;  and  some  change 
of  environment,  no  matter  how  minute,  there  must 
always  be ;  and  some  change,  no  matter  how  imper- 
ceptible, must  be  always  wrought  in  him. 

1  Wmwood  Reado,  Martyrdom  of  Man,  p.  404. 


2()U  THE  STIlVaGLE  FOR  LIFE. 


We  now  see,  perhaps,  more  clearly  why  Evolution 
at  the  dawn  of  life  entered  into  league  Avitli  so  strange 
an  ally  as  Want.  The  Evolution  of  Mankind  was  too 
great  a  thing  to  entrust  to  any  uncertain  hand.  The 
advantage  of  attaching  human  progress  to  the  Strug- 
gle for  Life  is  that  you  can  always  depend  upon  it. 
Hunger  never  fails.  All  other  human  appetites  have 
their  periods  of  activity  and  stagnation  ;  passions  wax 
and  Avane ;  emotions  are  casual  and  capricious.  But 
the  continuous  discharge  of  the  function  of  Nutrition 
is  interrupted  only  by  the  final  interruption — Death. 
Death  means,  in  fact,  little  more  than  an  interfei'ence 
Avith  the  function  of  Nutrition ;  it  means  that  the 
Struggle  for  Life  having  broken  down,  there  can  be 
no  more  life,  no  further  evolution.  Hence,  it  has  been 
ordained  that  Life  and  Struggle,  Health  and  Struggle, 
Growth  and  Struggle,  Progress  and  Struggle,  shall  be 
linked  together ;  that  whatever  the  chances  of  mis- 
direction, the  apparent  losses,  the  mysterious  ac- 
companiments of  strife  and  pain,  the  Ascent  of  Man 
should  be  bound  up  with  living.  When  it  is  remem- 
bered that,  at  a  later  day,  ^Morality  and  Struggle,  and 
even  Religion  and  Struggle,  are  bound  so  closely  that 
it  is  impossible  to  conceive  of  them  apart,  the  tre- 
mendous value  of  this  principle  and  the  necessity  for 
providing  it  with  indestructible  foundations,  will  be 
perceived. 

This  association  of  the  Struggle  for  Life  with  the 
physiological  function  of  Nutrition  must  be  con- 
tinually boi-ne  in  mind.  Eor  the  essential  nature  of 
the  principle  has  been  greatly  obscured  by  the  A'ery 
name  which  Mr.  Darwin  gave  to  it.  Probably  no'other 
was  possible  ;    but   the  effect  has  been  that  men  have 


THE  STllUGGLK  FOR  LIFE.  201 


emphasized  the  almost  etliical  substantive  "Strugi,^le" 
and  ignored  tlie  biological  term  "  Life."  A  secondary 
implication  of  the  process  has  thus  been  elevated  into 
tlie  prime  one;  and  this,  exaggerated  by  the  imagi- 
nation, has  led  to  Nature  being  conceived  of  as  a  vast 
nmrderous  machine  for  the  ainiihihition  of  tlie 
majority  and  the  survival  of  the  few.  But  the  Strug- 
gle for  Life,  in  the  first  instance,  is  simply  living 
itself ;  at  the  best,  it  is  living  under  a  healthily  nor- 
mal maximum  of  pressure  ;  at  the  Avorst,  under  an 
abnormal  maximum.  As  we  have  seen,  initially,  it  is 
but  another  name  for  the  discharge  of  the  supreme 
physiological  function  of  Nutrition,  If  life  is  to  go 
on  at  all,  this  function  must  be  discharged,  and  con- 
tinuously discharged.  Tlie  })]-imary  characteristic  of 
protoplasm,  the  physical  l)asis  of  all  life,  is  Hunger, 
and  tins  lias  dictated  the  first  law  of  being — "  Thou 
shalt  eat."  What  distinguishes  scientifically  the 
organic  from  the  inorganic,  the  animal  from  the  stone? 
That  the  animal  eats,  the  stone  does  not.  Almost  all 
achievement  in  the  early  histoi-y  of  the  living  world 
has  been  due  to  Hunger.  For  niillenniums  nearly  the 
whole  task  of  Evolution  was  to  perfect  the  means  of 
satisfying  it,  and  in  so  doing  to  perfect  life  itself. 
The  lowest  forms  of  life  are  little  more  than  animated 
stomachs,  and  in  higher  groups  the  nutritive  system 
is  the  first  to  be  developed,  the  first  to  function,  and 
the  last  to  cease  its  work.  Almost  wholly,  indeed,  in 
the  earlier  vicissitude  of  the  race,  and  largely  in  the 
more  ordered  covirse  of  later  times,  Hunger  rules  the 
life  and  work  and  destiny  of  men  ;  and  so  profoundly 
does  this  mysterious  deity  still  dominate  the  round  of 
even   the   highest   life   that    the   noblest  occupations 


202  THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  LIFE. 


which  engage  the  human  mind  must  be  interrupted 
two  or  three  times  a  day  to  do  it  homage. 

Whatever  JNhin  came  ultimately  to  wish  and  to 
achieve  for  liimself,  it  was  essential  at  first  that  such 
arrangements  should  be  made  for  him.  The  ma- 
chinery for  his  development  had  not  only  to  be  put 
into  Nature,  but  he  had  to  be  placed  in  the  machine 
and  held  there,  and  brought  back  there  as  often  as  he 
tried  to  evade  it.  To  say  that  man  evolved  himself, 
nevertheless,  is  as  absurd  as  to  say  that  a  newspaper 
prints  itself.  To  say  even  that  the  machinery  evolved 
him  is  as  preposterous  as  to  say  of  a  poem  that  the 
printing-press  made  it.  The  ultimate  problem  is.  Who 
made  the  machine  ?  and  Who  thought  the  poem  that 
was  to  be  printed  ? 

If  you  say  that  you  do  not  unreservedly  approve  of 
the  machine,  that  it  lacerates  as  well  as  binds,  the 
difficulty  is  more  real.  But  it  is  a  principle  in  the 
study  of  history  to  suspend  judgment  botli  of  the 
meaning  and  of  the  value  of  a  policy  until  the  chain 
of  sequences  it  sets  in  motion  should  be  worked  out 
to  its  last  fulfilment.  When  the  full  tale  of  the 
Struggle  for  Life  is  told,  when  the  record  of  its  vic- 
tories is  closed,  when  the  balance  of  its  gains  and 
losses  has  been  struck,  and  especially  when  it  is 
proved  that  there  actually  have  been  losses,  it  will  be 
time  to  pass  judgment  on  its  moral  value.  Of  course 
this  principle  cuts  both  Avays  ;  it  warns  off  a  favoniifcle 
as  well  as  an  unfavorable  verdict  on  the  beneficence  of 
the  system  of  things.  But  Evolution  is  a  study  in 
histor}',  and  its  results  are  largely  known.  And  it 
would  be  affectation  to  deny  that  on  the  whole  these 
results  are  good,  and  appear  the  worthier  the  more  we 


THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  LIFE.  203 


penetrate  into  tlieir  inner  meaning'.  Men  forget  Avhen 
they  denounce  the  Struggle  for  Life,  that  it  is  to  be 
judged  not  oidy  on  the  ground  of  sentiment  hut  of 
reason,  that  not  its  local  or  surface  effects  only,  but 
its  permanent  influence  on  the  order  of  the  world, 
must  be  taken  into  account. 

Even  on  the  lower  ranges  of  Nature  the  unfavorable 
implications  of  the  Struggle  for  Life  have  probably 
been  exaggerated.  While  it  is  essential  to  an  under- 
standing of  the  course  of  evolution,  to  retain  in  the 
imagination  a  vivid  sense  of  the  Struggle  itself,  we 
nuist  beware  of  over-coloring  the  representation,  or 
flooding  it  with  accompaniments  of  emotion  borrowed 
from  our  own  sensations.  The  word  Struggle  at  all 
in  this  connection  is  little  more  than  a  metaphor. 
When  it  is  said  that  an  animal  struggles,  all  that  is 
really  meant  is  that  it  lives.  An  animal,  tliat  is  to 
say,  does,  not,  in  addition  to  all  its  other  activities, 
have  to  employ  a  vast  number  of  special  activities,  to 
the  exercise  of  which  the  term  Struggle  is  to  be 
applied.  It  is  Life  itself  whicli  is  the  Struggle:  and 
the  whole  Life,  and  the  whole  of  the  activities  and 
powers  which  make  up  life  are  involved  in  it.  To 
speak  of  Struggle  in  the  sense  of  some  special  and 
separate  struggle,  to  conceive  of  battle,  or  even  a 
series  of  battles,  is  misleading,  where  all  is  struggle 
and  where  all  is  battle.  Especially  must  we  beware 
of  reading  into  it  our  personal  ideas  with  regard,  to 
accompaniments  of  pain.  The  probabilities  are  that 
the  Struggle  for  Life  in  the  lower  creation  is,  to  say 
the  least,  less  i)ainful  than  it  looks.  Whether  we 
regard  the  dulness  of  tlie  states  of  consciousness 
among  lower  animals,  or  the  fact  that  the  condition 


f 


204  TllK  STliVCULE  Foil  LIFE. 


of  danger  must  become  habitual,  or  that  death  when 
it  comes  is  sudden,  and  unaccompanied  by  that  an- 
ticiiDation  whicli  gives  it  its  chief  dread  to  Man,  we 
must  assume  tliat  wdiatever  tlie  Struggle  for  Life 
subjectively  means  to  the  lower  animals,  it  can  never 
approach  in  terror  what  it  means  to  ns.  And  as  to 
putting  any  moral  content  into  it,  until  a  late  stage 
in  the  world's  development,  that  is  not  to  be  thought 
of.  Judged  of  even  by  later  standards  there  is  much 
to  relieve  one's  first  unfavoi-able  impression.  With 
exceptions,  the  fight  is  a  fair  fight.  As  a  rule  there  is 
no  hate  in  it,  but  only  Hunger.  It  is  seldom  pro- 
longed, and  seldom  wanton.  As  to  the  manner  of 
death,  it  is  generally  sudden.  As  to  the  fact  of 
death,  all  animals  must  die.  As  to  the  meaning  of  an 
existence  prematurely  closed,  it  is  better  to  be  to  be 
eaten  than  not  to  be  at  all.  And,  as  to  the  last 
result,  it  is  better  to  be  eaten  out  of  the  world 
and,  dying,  help  another  to  live,  than  pollute  the 
world  by  lingering  decay.  The  most,  after  all,  that 
can  be  done  with  life  is  to  give  it  to  others.  Till 
Nature  taught  her  creatures  of  their  own  free  will  to 
offer  the  sacrifice,  is  it  strange  that  she  took  it  by 
force  ? 

There  are  those  indeed  who  fi'own  upon  Science 
for  predicating  a  Struggle  for  Life  in  Nature  at  all, 
lest  the  facts  should  impugn  the  beneficence  of  the 
universe.  But  Science  did  not  invent  the  Struggle 
for  Life.  It  is  there.  What  Science  has  really  done 
is  to  show  not  only  its  meaning  but  its  great  moral 
purpose.  There  are  others,  again,  like  Mill,  who,  see- 
ing the  facts,  but  not  seeing  that  moral  purpose, 
impugn    natural   theology  for  still  believing  in  the 


THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  LIFE.  205 

beneficence  of  that  purpose.  Neither  attitude,  prob- 
ably, is  quite  wortliy  of  the  names  with  wliich  these 
conclusions  are  associated.  JMuch  more  reasonable  are 
the  verdicts  of  the  two  men  who  are  first  responsible 
for  bringing  the  facts  before  the  world,  Mr.  Alfred 
Russel  Wallace  and  Mr.  Darwin.  "  When  we  reflect," 
says  Mr.  Darwin,  "  on  this  struggle,  Ave  may  console 
ourselves  with  the  full  belief  that  the  war  of  nature 
is  not  incessant,  that  no  fear  is  felt,  that  death  is 
generally  prompt,  and  that  the  vigorous,  the  healthy, 
and  the  happy  survive  and  multiply."  And  in  much 
stronger  language  Mr.  Wallace :  "  On  the  whole,  the 
popular  idea  of  the  struggle  for  existence  entailing 
misery  and  pain  on  the  animal  world  is  the  very 
reverse  of  the  truth.  What  it  really  brings  about 
is  the  maximum  of  life  and  of  the  enjoyment  of  life, 
with  the  mininnim  of  suffering  and  jiain.  Given  the 
necessity  of  death  and  reproduction,  and  Avithout 
these  there  could  have  been  no  progressive  develop- 
ment of  the  organic  world — and  it  is  difiicult  even  to 
imagine  a  system  by  which  a  greater  balance  of 
happiness  could  have  been  secured."  ^ 

We  may  safely  leave  Xature  here  to  look  after 
her  own  ethic.  That  a  price,  a  price  in  pain,  and 
assuredly  sometimes  a  very  terrible  price,  has  been 
paid  for  the  evolution  of  the  world,  after  all  is  said,  is 
certain.  There  may  be  difference  of  opinion  as  to  the 
amount  of  this  price,  but  on  one  point  there  can  be  no 
dis[)ute — that  even,  at  the  highest  estimate  the  thing 
wliich  was  bought  with  it  was  none  too  dear.  For 
that  thing  was  nothing  less  than  the  })resent  progress 
of  the  world.  The  Struggle  for  Life  has  been  a  vic- 
'  Darwinisni,  pp.  00-40. 


206  THE  STRUGGLZ  FOR  LIFE. 

torious  struggle ;  it  bus  succeeded  in  its  stupendous 
task  ;  and  there  is  notliing  of  order  or  beauty  or  per- 
fection in  Hving  Nature  tbat  does  not  owe  sometliing 
to  its  liaving  been  carried  on,  Tbe  first  duty  of  tbose 
wlio  demur  to  tlie  cost  of  progress  is  to  make  sure 
that  tliey  comprehend  in  all  its  richness  tlie  infinity  of 
the  gift  this  sacrifice  has  purchased  for  humanity. 
Tlie  end  of  the  Struggle  for  Life  is  not  battle ;  it  is 
not  even  victory,  it  is  evolution.  The  result  is  not 
Avounds,  it  is  health.  Nature  is  a  vast  and  com- 
plicated system  of  devices  to  keep  things  changing, 
adjusting,  and,  as  it  seems,  progi'essing.  The 
Struggle  for  Life  is  a  species  of  necessitated  aspira- 
tion, the  lu's  a  tergo  wliich  keeps  living  things  in 
motion.  It  does  not  follow,  of  course,  that  that 
motion  should  be  upward;  that  is  dependent  on  other 
considerations.  But  the  point  to  mark  is  that  without 
the  struggle  for  food  and  the  pressure  of  want,  with- 
out the  conflict  with  foes  and  the  challenge  of  climate, 
the  world  would  be  left  to  stagnation.  Change, 
adventure,  temptation,  vicissitude  even  to  the  verge 
of  calamity,  these  are  the  life  of  the  world. 

There  is  another  side  to  this  principle  from  which 
its  higher  significance  becomes  still  more  apparent. 
It  follows  from  the  Struggle  for  Life  that  those  ani- 
mals which  struggle  most  successfully  will  pi'osper, 
Avhile  the  less  successful  will  disappear — hence  the 
well-known  principle  of  Natural  Selection  or  the  Sur- 
vival of  the  Fittest.  Waiving  the  discussion  of  this 
law  in  general,  and  the  varying  meanings  which  "  fit- 
ness" assumes  as  we  rise  in  the  scale  of  being,  observe 
/  the  role  it  plays  in  Nature.  The  object  of  the  Sur- 
!    vival  of  the  Fittest  is  to  produce  fitness.     And  it  does 


THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  LIFE.  2U7 


SO  both  negatively  and  positively.  In  tlie  first  place 
it  produces  fitness  by  killing  off  the  unfit.  Without 
the  rigorous  Aveeding  out  of  the  imperfect  the  progress 
of  tbe  world  had  not  been  possible.  If  fit  and  unfit  in- 
discriminately had  been  allowed  to  live  and  reproduce 
their  kind,  every  improvement  which  any  individual 
might  acquire  would  be  degraded  to  the  common  level 
in  the  course  of  a  few  generations.-  Progress  can  only 
start  by  one  or  two  individuals  shooting  ahead  of  their 
species  ;  and  their  life-gain  can  oidy  be  conserved  by 
their  being  shut  off  from  their  species — or  Ity  their 
species  being  shut  off  from  them.  Unless  shut  off 
from  their  species  their  acquisition  will  either  be  neu- 
tralized in  the  course  of  time  by  the  swamping  effect 
of  inter-breeding  with  the  common  herd,  or  so  diluted 
as  to  involve  no  real  advance.  The  only  chance  for 
Evolution,  then,  is  either  to  cany  off  these  improved 
editions  into  "  physiological  isolation,"  or  to  remove 
the  unimproved  editions  by  wholesale  death.  The 
first  of  these  alternatives  is  only  occasionally  possible; 
the  second  always.  Hence  the  death  of  the  unevolved, 
or  of  the  unadapted  in  reference  to  some  new  and 
higher  relation  with  environment,  is  essential  to  the 
perpetuation  of  a  useful  variation.  Although  Natural 
Selection  by  no  means  invariably  works  in  the  direc- 
tion of  progress, — in  parasites  it  has  consummated  al- 
most utter  degeneration, — no  progress  can  take  place 
without  it.  It  is  only  Avhen  one  consider^the  work- 
ing of  the  Struggle  for  Life  on  the  large  ^cale,  and 
realizes  Its  necessity  to  the  Evolution  of  the  \VQrld  as 
a  whole,  that  one  can  even  begin  to  discuss  its  ethical 
or  teleological  meanmgs.  To  make  a  fit  woi'ld,  the 
unfit  at  every  stage  must  be  made  to  disappear ;  and 


208  THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  LIFE. 


if  any  self-acting  law  can  bring  tliis  about,  though  its 
bearing  upon  this  or  that  individual  case  may  seem 
unjust,  its  necessity  for  tlie  world  as  a  whole  is  vindi- 
cated. If  more  of  any  given  species  are  born  into  the 
world  than  can  possibly  find  food,  and  if  a  given  num- 
ber must  die,  that  number  must  be  singled  out  upon 
some  principle  ;  and  we  cannot  quarrel  with  the 
principle  in  Physical  Nature  whicli  condennis  to  death 
the  worst.  By  placing  the  deatli-})enalty  upon  the 
slightest  short-coming,  Natural  Selection  so  discour- 
ages imperfection  as  practically  to  eliminate  it  from 
the  world.  The  fact  that  any  given  animal  is  alive 
at  all  is  almost  a  token  of  its  perfectness.  Nothing 
living  can  be  wholly  a  failure.  For  the  moment  that 
it  fails,  it  ceases  to  live.  Something  more  fit,  were  it 
even  by  a  hairbreadth,  secures  it  place  ;  so  that  all 
existing  lives  must,  with  reference  to  tlieir  environ- 
ment, be  the  best  possible  lives.  Natural  Selection  is 
the  means  employed  in  Nature  to  bring  about  perfect 
health,  perfect  wholeness,  perfect  adaptation,  and  in 
the  long  run  the  Ascent  of  all  living  things. 

This  being  so,  the  Law  of  the  Struggle  for  Life  is 
elevated  to  a  unique  place  in  Nature  as  a  first  neces- 
sity of  progress.  It  involves  that  every  living  thing 
ill  nature  sliall  live  its  best,  that  every  resource  shall 
be  called  out  to  its  utmost,  that  eveiy  individual 
faculty  shall  be  kept  in  the  most  perfect  order  and 
work  up  to  its  fullest  strength.  So  far  from  being  a 
drag  on  life,  it  is  the  one  thing  which  not  onl}'-  makes 
life  go  on  at  all,  but  which  in  the  very  act  perfects  it. 
The  result  may  sometimes  involve  the  dethroning  of  a 
species,  or  its  entire  extinction  :  it  may  lead  in  the 
case  of  others  to  degeneration ;  but  in  the  end  it  must 


THE  STIiUGGLE  FOli  LIFE.  2»l9 

result  in  the  gradual  perfecting  of  organisms  upon  the 
whole,  and  the  steady  advance  of  the  final  type.  In 
fixing  the  eye  on  the  murderous  side  of  this  Struggle, 
it  is  therefore  well  to  remember  to  what  it  leads. 
There  could  be  no  higher  end  in  the  universe  than  to 
make  a  perfect  world,  and  no  more  perfect  law  than 
that  which  at  the  same  moment  eliminates  the  unfit 
and  establishes  the  fit.  Too  frequently  the  moralist's 
attention  is  diverted  to  the  negative  side,  to  what 
seems  the  quite  innnoral  spectacle  of  tlie  massacre  of 
the  innocent,  the  rout  and  murder  of  the  unfit.  But 
in  earlier  Nature  there  is  no  such  word  as  innocent; 
and  no  ethical  meaning  at  that  stage  can  attach  itself 
to  the  term  "  unfit."  Fitness  in  the  stoi'my  days  of 
the  world's  animal  youth  was  necessarily  fighting- 
fitness  ;  no  higher  end  was  present  anywhere  than 
simply  to  gain  for  life  a  footing  in  the  world,  and  per- 
fect it  up  to  the  highest  physical  form.  The  creature 
which  did  that  fulfilled  its  destiny,  and  no  higher 
destiny  was  possible  or  conceivable.  The  Survival  of  - 
the  Fittest,  of  course,  does  not  mean  the  survival  of 
the  strongest.  It  means  the  Survival  of  the  Adapted 
— the  survival  of  the  most  fitted  to  the  circumstances  ^ 
which  surround  it.  A  fish  survives  in  water  wlien  a 
leaking  ironclad  goes  to  the  bottom,  not  because  it  is 
stronger  but  because  it  is  better  adapted  to  the  ele- 
ment in  which  it  lives.  A  Texas  bull  is  stronger  than 
a  mosquito,  but  in  an  autunni  drought  the  bull  dies, 
the  mosquito  lives.  Fitness  to  survive  is  simply  fit- 
tedness,  and  has  nothing  to  do  with  strength  or  cour- 
age, or  intelligence  or  cunning  as  such,  but  only  with 
adjustments  as  fit  or  unfit  to  the  world  around.  A 
prize-fighter  is  stronger  than  a  cripple  ;  but  in  the 
U 


210  THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  LIFE. 

environment  of  modern  life  the  cripple  is  cared  for  by 
the  people,  is  judged  fit  to  live  by  a  moral  world, 
while  the  pugilist,  handicapped  by  his  very  health, 
has  to  conduct  his  own  struggle  for  existence.  Physi- 
cal fitness  here  is  actually  a  disqualification  ;  what 
was  once  unfitness  is  now  fitness  to  survive.  As  we 
rise  in  the  scale,  the  physical  fitness  of  the  early  world 
changes  to  fitness  of  a  dift'erent  quality,  and  this  law 
becomes  the  guardian  of  a  moral  order.  In  one  era 
the  race  is  to  the  swift,  in  another  the  meek  inherit 
the  earth.  In  a  material  world  social  survival  de- 
pends on  wealth,  health,  power ;  in  a  moral  world  the 
fittest  are  the  weak,  the  pitiable,  the  poor.  Thus 
there  comes  a  time  when  this  very  law,  in  securing 
survival  for  those  who  would  otherwise  sink  and  fall, 
is  the  minister  of  moral  ends. 

When  we  pass  from  the  animal  and  the  savage 
states  to  watch  the  working  of  the  Struggle  for  Life 
in  later  times,  the  impression  deepens  that  after  all, 
the  "  gladiatorial  theory "  of  existence  has  much  to 
say  for  itself.  To  trace  its  progress  further  is  denied 
us  for  the  present,  but  observe  before  we  close  what 
it  connotes  in  modern  life.  Its  lineal  descendants  are 
two  in  number,  and  they  have  but  to  be  named  to 
show  the  enormous  place  this  factor  has  been  given 
to  play  in  the  world's  destiny.  The  first  is  War,  the 
second  is  Industry.  These  in  all  their  forms  and 
ramifications  are  simply  the  primitive  Struggle  con- 
tinued on  the  social  and  political  plane.  War  is  not  a 
casual  thing  like  a  thunderstorm,  nor  a  specific  thing 
like  a  battle.  It  is  that  ancient  Struggle  for  Life  car- 
ried over  from  the  animal  kingdom,  which,  in  the  later 
as  in  the  earlier  world,  has  been  so  perfect  an  instru- 


THE  STJIUGGLE  FOR  LIFE.  211 


ment  of  evolution.  Along  with  Industry,  and  for  a 
time  before  it,  War  was  the  foster-mother  of  civiliza- 
tion. The  patron  of  the  heroic  virtues,  the  purifier  of 
societies,  the  solidifier  of  states,  the  military  form  of 
tliis  Struggle — despite  the  awful  balance  on  the  other 
side — stands  out  on  every  page  of  history  as  the 
maker  and  educator  of  the  human  race.  Industry  is 
but  the  same  Struggle  in  another  disguise.  The  in- 
dustrial conflict  of  to-day  is  the  old  attempt  of  primi- 
tive Man  to  get  the  most  out  of  Nature — to  grow 
foods,  to  find  clothes,  to  raise  fuel,  to  gain  wealth. 
Owing  to  the  ever-increasing  number  of  tlie  Strug- 
glers  the  supplies  fall  short  of  the  demands,  with  the 
result  of  perpetuating  on  tlie  industrial  plane,  and 
often  in  hard  and  degrading  forms,  the  primitive 
Struggle  for  Life.  When  society  wonders  at  its 
labor  troubles  it  forgets  that  Industry  is  a  stage  but 
one  or  two  removes  from  the  purely  animal  Struggle. 
And  when  morality  impugns  the  Struggle  for  Life,  it 
forgets  that  nearly  the  whole  later  fabric  of  civiliza- 
tion is  its  creation. 

But  one  has  only  to  look  at  these  further  phases 
of  the  Struggle  to  observe  the  most  important  fact 
of  all — the  change  that  passes  over  the  principle  as 
time  goes  on.  Examine  it  on  the  higher  levels  as 
carefully  as  we  have  examined  it  on  the  lower,  and 
though  the  cruder  elements  persist  with  fatal  and 
appalling  vigor,  tliere  are  whole  regions,  and  daily 
enlarging  regions,  where  every  animal  feature  is  dis- 
credited, discouraged,  or  driven  away.  Already,  with 
the  social  tragedy  still  at  its  height  ai'ound  us,  the 
amelioration  in  many  directions  makes  constant  prog- 
ress; and  partly  through  the  rise  of  o[)i)osing  forces, 


212  THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  LIFE. 

and  partly  through  the  very  civihzatioii  which  it  has 
helped  to  create,  the  maligner  power  must  disappear. 
The  Struggle  for  Life,  as  hfe's  dynamic,  can  never 
wholly  cease.  In  the  keenness  of  its  energies,  the 
splendor  of  its  stimulus,  its  bracing  effect  on  char- 
acter, its  wholesome  tensions  throughout  the  whole 
range  of  action,  it  must  remain  with  us  to  the  end. 
But  in  the  virulence  of  its  animal  qualities  it  must 
surely  pass  away.  There  are  those  who,  without 
reflecting  on  this  qualitative  change,  would  govern 
Society  by  the  merely  animal  Struggle  ;  those  who 
claim  for  this  the  sanction  of  Nature,  and  lay  down 
tlie  principle  of  selfishness  as  the  eternally  working 
law.  The  eternal  law,  as  we  shall  presently  see, 
is  unselfishness.  But  even  the  selfishness  of  early 
Nature  loses  its  sting  with  time  ;  the  self  that  is  in  it 
becomes  a  higher  self  ;  and  the  world  in  which  it  acts 
is  so  much  a  better  world  that  if  self  gave  full  rein  to 
the  animal  it  would  be  instantly  extinguished. 

The  amelioration  of  the  Struggle  for  Life  is  the 
most  certain  prophecy  of  Science.  If  this  universe 
is  a  moral  universe,  it  was  a  necessity  that  sooner  or 
later  this  conflict  should  abate,  that  in  the  course  of 
Evolution  this  particular  change  should  come,  that 
there  should  be  put  into  the  very  machi)iery  of  Nature 
that  which  should  bring  it  about.  And  what  do  we 
find  ?  We  find  the  Animal  side  of  the  Struggle  for 
Life  attacked  in  such  directions,  and  with  such 
weapons  that  its  defeat  is  sure.  These  weapons  are  in 
the  armory  of  Nature  ;  they  have  been  there  from  the 
beginning ;  and  they  are  now  engaged  upon  the  enemy 
so  hotly  and  so  openly  that  Ave  can  discover  what 
some  of  them  are.     The  first  is  one  which  has  besrun 


77/ A'  STItUaULE  FOR  LIFE.  213 


to  mine  the  Struggle  for  Life  at  its  roots.  Essen- 
tially, as  we  have  seen,  the  Struggle  for  Life  is  the 
attempt  to  solve  the  fundamental  problem  of  all  life 
— Xutrition.  If  that  could  be  solved  apart  from  the 
Struggle  for  Life,  its  occupation  would  be  gone.  Now, 
it  is  more  than  probable  that  that  problem  will  be 
otherwise  solved.  It  will  be  solved  by  science.  At 
the  present  moment  Chemistry  is  devoting  itself  to 
the  experiment  of  manufdcturing  nut?~iiion,  and  with 
an  enthusiasm  which  only  immediate  hope  begets.  It 
is  not  the  visionaries  who  have  dared  to  prophesy 
here.  In  a  hundred  laboratories  the  problem  is  being 
practically  worked  out,  and,  as  one  of  the  highest 
authorities  assures  us,  "  The  time  is  not  far  distant 
when  the  artificial  prepar<>tion  of  ai'ticles  of  food  will 
be  accomplished."  ^  Ab-eady,  through  the  labors  of 
other  sciences,  the  Struggle  for  Food  has  been  made 
infinitely  easier  than  it  was  ;  but  when  the  immediate 
quest  succeeds,  and  the  food  of  Man  is  made  direct 
from  the  elements,  the  Struggle  in  all  its  coarser 
forms  will  practically  be  abolished.  Civilization  can- 
not ease  the  whole  burden  at  once;  the  Struggle  for 
Life  will  go  on,  but  it  will  be  tlie  Struggle  with  its 
fangs  drawn. 

But  there  is  a  higher  hope  than  Science.  Attacked 
from  below  by  Man's  intellect,  the  final  blow  will  be 
struck  from  a  deeper  source.  It  is  impossible  to  con- 
ceive that  the  Ascent  of  Man  should  always  depend 
upon  his  appetites,  that  in  God's  world  there  should 
be  nothing  better  to  attract  him  than  food  and  rai- 
ment, that  he  should  take  no  single  step  towards  a 
higher  life  except  when  driven  to  it.  As  there  comes 
^  Prof,  llemsen,  AFC'lure'n  Magazine,  Jan.,  1894. 


214  THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  LIFE. 

a  time  in  a  child's  life  when  coercion  gives  place  to 
free  and  conscious  choice,  the  day  conies  to  the  world 
wlien  the  aspirations  of  the  spirit  begin  to  compete 
with,  to  neutralize,  and  to  supplant  the  compulsions 
of  the  body.  Against  that  day  in  the  heart  of  human- 
ity, Nature  had  made  full  provision.  For  there,  pre- 
pared by  a  profounder  chemistry  than  that  which  was 
to  relieve  the  strain  on  the  physical  side,  had  gathered 
through  the  ages  a  force  in  whose  presence  the  ener- 
gies of  the  Animal  Struggle  are  as  naught.  Beside 
the  Struggle  for  the  Life  of  Others  the  Struggle  for 
Life  is  but  a  passing  phase.  As  old,  as  deeply  sunk  in 
Nature,  this  further  force  was  destined  from  the  first 
to  replace  the  Struggle  for  Life,  and  to  build  a  nobler 
superstructure  on  the  foundations  which  it  laid.  To 
establish  these  foundations  was  all  that  the  Animal 
Struggle  was  ever  designed  to  do.  It  has  laid  them 
well;  yet  it  is  only  when  the  Struggle  for  Life  stands 
projected  against  the  larger  influence  with  which  all 
through  history — and  in  an  infinitely  profound  sense 
through  moral  liistory — it  has  been  allied,  that  at  once 
its  worth  and  its  ignominy  are  seen. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

TIIE  STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS. 

We  now  open  a  wholly  new,  and  by  far  the  most 
important,  chapter  in  the  Evolution  of  Man.  Up  to 
this  time  we  have  found  for  him  a  Body,  and  the  rudi- 
ments of  Mind.  But  Man  is  not  a  Body,  nor  a  Mind. 
The  temple  still  awaits  its  final  tenant — the  higher 
human  Soul. 

With  a  Body  alone,  Man  is  an  animal :  the  highest 
animal,  yet  a  pure  animal ;  struggling  for  its  own  nar- 
row life,  living  for  its  small  and  sordid  ends.  Add  a 
Mind  to  that  and  the  advance  is  infinite.  The  Strug- 
gle for  Life  assumes  the  august  form  of  a  struggle  for 
light :  he  who  was  once  a  savage,  pursuing  the  arts  of 
the  chase,  realizes  Aristotle's  ideal  man,  "  a  hunter 
after  Truth."  Yet  this  is  not  the  end.  Experience 
tells  us  that  Man's  true  life  is  neither  lived  in  the 
material  tracts  of  the  body,  nor  in  the  higher  altitudes 
of  the  intellect,  but  in  the  warm  world  of  the  affec- 
tions. Till  he  is  equipped  with  these  Man  is  not  hu- 
man. He  reaches  his  full  height  only  when  Love  be- 
comes to  him  the  breatli  of  life,  the  energy  of  will,  the 
summit  of  desire.  There  at  last  lies  all  happiness, 
and  goodness,  and  truth  and  divinity  : 

215 


210     THE  STRUUGLE  FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS. 

"  For  the  loving  -u-onD  within  its  clod 
Were  diviner  than  a  loveless  God." 

That  Love  did  ncit  come  down  to  us  through  the 
Struggle  for  Life,  the  only  great  factor  in  Evolution 
Avliich  up  to  this  time  has  been  dwelt  upon,  is  self-evi- 
dent. It  has  a  lineage  all  its  own.  Yet  inexplicable 
though  the  circumstance  be,  the  history  of  this  force, 
tlie  most  stupendous  the  world  has  ever  known,  has 
scarcely  even  begun  to  be  investigated.  Every  other 
principle  in  Xature  has  had  a  thousand  prophets  ;  but 
this  supreme  dynamic  has  run  its  course  through  the 
ages  unobserved ;  its  rise,  so  far  as  science  is  con- 
cerned, is  unknown  ;  its  story  lias  never  been  told. 
]>ut  if  any  phenomenon  or  principle  in  Xature  is  capa- 
ble of  treatment  under  the  category  of  Evolution,  this 
is.  Love  is  not  a  late  arrival,  an  after-thought,  with 
Creation.  It  is  not  a  novelty  of  a  romantic  civiliza- 
tion. It  is  not  a  pious  word  of  religion.  Its  roots  be- 
gan to  grow  with  the  first  cell  of  life  which  budded  on 
this  earth.  How  great  it  is,  the  history  of  humanity 
bears  Avitness  :  but  how  old  it  is  and  how  solid,  how 
bound  up  with  the  very  constitution  of  the  world, 
how  from  the  first  of  time  an  eternal  part  of  it,  we  are 
only  now  beginning  to  perceive.  For  the  Evolution  of 
Love  is  a  ])iece  of  pure  Science.  Love  did  not  descend 
out  of  the  clouds  like  rain  or  snow.  It  was  distilled 
on  earth.  And  few  of  the  romances  which  in  after 
years  were  to  cluster  round  this  innnortal  word  are 
more  wonderful  than  the  stoi\y  of  its  birth  and 
growth.  Partly  a  product  of  crushed  lives  and  exter- 
minated species,  and  partly  of  the  choicest  blossoms 
and  sweetest  essences  that  ever  came  from  the  tree  of 
life,  it  reached  its  spiritual  perfection  after  a  history 


Till':  srnrudLE  for  the  life  of  otukus.    -jit 

the  most  strangle  and  checkered  that  the  pages  of 
Nature  have  to  record.  AVliat  Love  Avas  at  first,  how 
crude  and  sour  and  embryonic  a  thing,  it  is  impossible 
to  conceive.  But  from  age  to  age,  "with  immeasurable 
faith  and  patience,  by  cultivations  continuously  re- 
peated, by  transplantings  endlessly  varied,  the  un- 
recognizable gei"m  of  this  new  fruit  was  husbanded  to 
its  maturity,  and  became  the  tree  on  which  humanity, 
society,  and  civilization  were  ultimately  borne. 

As  the  story  of  Evolution  is  usually  told.  Love — the 
evolved  form,  as  we  shall  see,  of  the  Struggle  for  the 
Life  of  Others — has  not  even  a  place.  Almost  the 
whole  emphasis  of  science  has  fallen  upon  the  oppo- 
site— the  animal  Struggle  for  Life.  Hunger  was  early 
seen  by  the  naturalists  to  be  the  first  and  most  impe- 
rious appetite  of  all  liviiig  things,  and  the  course  of 
Nature  came  to  be  erroneously  interpreted  in  terms  of 
a  never-ending  strife.  Since  there  are  vastly  more 
creatures  born  than  can  ever  survive,  since  for  every 
morsel  of  food  provided  a  hundred  claimants  appear, 
life  to  an  animal  was  described  to  us  as  one  long 
tragedy  ;  and  Poetry,  borrowing  the  imperfect  creed, 
pictured  Xature  only  as  a  blood-red  fang.  Before  we 
can  go  on  to  trace  the  higher  progress  of  Love  itself,  it 
is  necessary  to  correct  this  misconception.  And  no 
words  can  be  thrown  away  if  they  serve,  in  whatever 
imperfect  measure,  to  restore  to  honor  what  is  in 
reality  the  supreme  fajtor  in  the  Evolution  of  the 
world.  To  interpret  the  whole  course  of  Nature  by 
the  Struggle  for  Life  is  as  absurd  as  if  one  were  to 
define  the  character  of  St.  Francis  by  the  tempers  of 
his  childhood.  AVorlds  grow  up  as  well  as  infants ; 
their  tempers   change,  the  better  nature  opens   out, 


•JIS     THE  STRUaULE  EOll  THE  LIEE  OF  OTlIEliS. 

new  objects  of  desire  appear,  liiglier  activities  are 
added  to  tlie  lower.  Tlie  first  chapter  or  two  of  the 
story  of  Evolution  may  be  headed  the  Struggle  for 
Life ;  but  take  the  book  as  a  Avhole  and  it  is  not  a  tale 
of  battle.     It  is  a  Love-story. 

The  circumstances,  as  has  been  already  pointed  out 
in  the  Introduction,  under  which  the  world  at  large 
received  its  main  impression  of  Evolution,  obscured 
these  later  and  happier  features.  The  modern  revival 
of  the  Evolution  theory  occurred  almost  solely  in 
connection  with  investigations  in  the  lower  planes  of 
Nature,  and  M^as  due  to  the  stimulus  of  the  pure 
naturalists,  notably  of  INfr.  Darwin.  But  what  Mr. 
Darwin  primarily  undertook  to  explain  was  simply 
tlie  Origin  of  Species.  Ilis  work  was  a  study  in  in- 
fancies, in  rudiments ;  he  emphasized  the  earliest 
forces  and  the  humblest  phases  of  the  world's  develop- 
ment. The  Struggle  for  Life  was  there  the  most  con- 
spicuous fact — at  least,  on  the  surface ;  it  formed  the 
key-note  of  his  teaching ;  and  the  tragic  side  of  Nature 
fixed  itself  in  the  popular  mind.  The  mistake  the 
world  made  was  twofold:  it  mistook  Darwinism  for 
Evolution — a  specific  theory  of  Evolution  applicable 
to  a  single  dej^artment,  for  a  universal  scheme ;  and 
it  misunderstood  Mr.  Darwin  himself.  That  the 
foundations  of  Darwinism — or  what  was  taken  for 
Darwinism — were  the  foundations  of  all  Nature  was 
assumed.  Dazzled  with  the  apparent  solidity  of  this 
foundation,  men  made  haste  to  run  up  a  structure 
which  included  the  whole  vast  range  of  life — vegetal, 
animal,  social — based  on  a  law  which  explained  but 
half  the  facts,  and  was  only  relevant,  in  the  crude 
form  in  which  it  was  universally  stated,  for  the  cliild- 


TUK  STIiUGaLE  FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  OTJIEHS.     -ill) 


hood  of  the  world.  It  was  impossible  for  such  an 
edifice  to  stand.  Natural  history  cannot  in  any  case 
cover  the  whole  facts  of  human  history,  and,  so  inter- 
preted, can  only  fatally  distort  them.  The  mistake 
had  been  largely  qualified  had  Mr.  Darwin's  followers 
even  accepted  his  foundation  in  its  first  integrity ; 
but,  perhaps  because  the  author  of  the  theory  himself 
but  dimly  apprehended  tlie  complement  of  his  thesis, 
few  seem  to  have  perceived  tliat  anything  was  amiss. 
Mr.  Darwin's  sagacity  led  him  distinctly  to  foresee  that 
narrow  interpretations  of  his  great  phrase  "  Struggle 
for  Existence"  were  certain  to  be  made;  and  in  the 
opening  chapters  of  the  Origin  of  tSj^ecies,  he  warns 
us  that  the  term  must  be  applied  in  its  "large  and 
metaphorical  sense,  including  dependence  of  one  being 
on  another,  and  including  (which  is  more  important) 
not  only  the  life  of  the  individual,  but  success  in  leav- 
ing progeny."  ^  In  spite  of  this  warning,  his  over- 
mastering emphasis  on  the  individual  Struggle  for 
Existence  seems  to  have  obscured,  if  not  to  his  own 
mind,  certainly  to  almost  all  his  followers,  the  truth 
that  any  other  great  factor  in  Evolution  existed. 

The  truth  is  there  are  hoo  Struggles  for  Life  in 
every  living  thing — the  Struggle  for  Life,  and  the 
Struggle  for  the  Life  of  Others.  The  web  of  life  is 
woven  upon  a  double  set  of  threads,  the  second  thread 
distinct  in  color  from  the  first,  and  giving  a  totally 
different  pattern  to  the  finished  fabric.  As  the  whole 
aspect  of  the  after-world  depends  on  this  distinction 
of  strands  in  the  warp,  it  is  necessary  to  grasp  the 
distinction  with  the  utmost  clearness.  Already,  in 
the  introductory  chapter,  the  nature  of  the  distinction 
1  Origin  of  Species,  6th  eclilion,  p.  50. 


2ii0    THE  s'n:n;(:Li-:  von  tuk  life  of  others. 


has  l)3en  briefly  explained.  But  it  is  necessary  to  Le 
explicit  here,  even  to  redundancy.  We  have  arrived 
at  a  point  from  wliicli  tlie  Ascent  of  Man  takes  a  fresh 
de^iarture,  a  point  from  which  the  course  of  Evolution 
begins  to  wear  an  entirely  altered  aspect.  No  such 
consummation  ever  before  occurred  in  the  progress  of 
the  world  as  the  rise  to  potency  in  human  life  of  the 
Struggle  for  the  Life  of  Others.  The  Struggle  for  the 
Life  of  Others  is  the  physiological  name  for  tho 
greatest  word  of  ethics — Other-ism,  Altruism,  Love. 
From  Self-ism  to  Other-ism  is  the  supreme  transition 
of  history.  It  is  therefore  impossible  to  lodge  in  the 
mind  with  too  much  solidity  the  simple  biological  fact 
on  which  the  Altruistic  Struggle  I'ests.  Were  this  a 
late  phase  of  Evolution,  or  a  factor  applicable  to  single 
genera,  it  would  still  be  of  supreme  importance  ;  but 
it  is  radical,  universal,  involved  in  the  very  nature  of 
life  itself.  As  matter  is  to  be  interpreted  by  Science 
in  terms  of  its  properties,  life  is  to  be  interpreted  in 
terms  of  its  functions.  And  when  we  dissect  down  to 
that  form  of  matter  with  which  all  life  is  associated, 
we  find  it  already  discharging  in  the  humblest  organ- 
isms visible  by  the  microscope  the  function  on  which 
the  stupendous  superstructure  of  Altruism  indirectly 
comes  to  rest.  Take  the  tiniest  protoplasmic  cell, 
immerse  it  in  a  suitable  medium,  and  presently  it  will 
perform  two  great  acts — the  two  which  sum  up  life, 
which  constitute  the  eternal  distinction  between  the 
living  and  the  dead — Xutrition  and  Reproduction. 
At  one  moment,  in  pursuance  of  the  Struggle  for  Life, 
it  will  call  in  matter  from  without,  and  assimilate  it 
to  itself ;  at  another  moment,  in  pursuance  of  the 
Struggle  for  the  Life  of  Others,  it  will  set  a  portion  of 


THE  STRUGGLE  FOR   THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS.     221 

that  matter  apart,  add  to  it,  and  finally  give  it  away 
to  form  another  life.  Even  at  its  dawn  life  is  receiver 
and  giver ;  even  in  protoplasm  is  Self-ism  and  Other- 
ism,  These  two  tendencies  are  not  fortuitous.  They 
have  been  lived  into  existence.  They  are  not  grafts 
on  the  tree  of  life,  they  are  its  nature,  its  essential 
life.  They  are  not  painted  on  the  canvas,  but  woven 
through  it. 

The  two  main  activities,  then,  of  all  living  things  are 
Nutrition  and  Reiyroductlon.  The  discharge  of  these 
functions  in  plants,  and  largely  in  animals,  sums  up 
the  work  of  life.  The  object  of  Nutrition  is  to  secure 
the  life  of  the  individual ;  the  object  of  Reproduction 
is  to  secure  the  life  of  the  Species.  These  two  objects 
are  thus  wholly  different.  The  first  has  a  purely  per- 
sonal end ;  its  attention  is  turned  inwards  ;  it  exists 
only  for  the  present.  The  second  in  a  greater  or  less 
degree  is  impersonal ;  its  attention  is  turned  out- 
wards ;  it  lives  for  the  future.  One  of  these  objects, 
in  other  words,  is  Self-regarding ;  the  other  is  Other- 
regarding.  Both,  of  course,  at  the  outset  are  wholly 
selfish ;  both  are  parts  of  the  Struggle  lor  Life.  Yet 
see  already  in  this  non-ethical  region  a  parting  of  the 
ways.  Selfishness  and  unselfishness  are  two  supreme 
words  in  the  moral  life.  The  first,  even  in  physical 
Nature,  is  accompanied  by  the  second.  In  the  very 
fact  that  one  of  the  two  mamsprings  of  life  is  Other- 
regarding  there  lies  a  prophecy,  a  suggestion,  of  the 
day  of  Alti'uism.  In  organizing  the  physiological 
mechanism  of  l{ei)ro(luction  in  plants  and  animals 
Nature  was  already  hiying  wires  on  wliicli,  one  far-off 
day,  the  currents  of  all  higher  tlnngs  might  travel. 

Jn  itself,  this  second   struggle,  this  effort  to  main- 


222     TUE  STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS. 

tain  the  life  of  tlie  species,  is  not  less  real  than  the 
first ;  the  provisions  for  effecting  it  are  not  less  won- 
derful ;  the  wliole  is  not  less  a  part  of  the  system  of 
things.  And,  taken  prophetically,  the  function  of 
Reproduction  is  as  much  greater  than  the  function  of 
Nutrition  as  the  Man  is  greater  than  the  Animal,  as 
the  Soul  is  higher  than  the  Body,  as  Co-operation  is 
stronger  than  Competition,  as  Love  is  stro'nger  than 
Hate.  If  it  were  ever  to  be  charged  against  Nature 
that  she  was  wholly  selfish,  here  is  the  refutation 
at  the  very  start.  One  of  the  two  fundamental  activ- 
ities of  all  life,  whether  plant  or  animal,  is  Other-re- 
garding. It  is  not  said  that  the  function  of  liepro- 
duction,  say  in  a  fern  or  in  an  oak,  is  an  unselfish  act, 
yet  ni  a  sense,  even  though  begotten  of  self,  it  is  an 
other-regarding  act.  In  the  physical  world,  to  speak 
of  the  Struggle  for  Food  as  selfish,  or  to  call  the  Strug- 
gle for  Species  unselfish,  are  alike  incongruous.  But 
if  the  morality  of  Nature  is  impugned  on  the  ground 
of  the  universal  Struggle  for  Life,  it  is  at  least  as  rel- 
evant to  refute  the  charge  by  putting  moral  content 
into  the  universal  Struggle  for  Species.  No  true 
moral  content  can  be  put  into  either,  yet  the  one 
marks  the  beginning  of  Egoism,  the  other  of  Altruism. 
Almost  the  whole  self-seeking  side  of  things  has  come 
down  the  line  of  the  individual  Struggle  for  Life;  al- 
most the  whole  unselfish  side  of  things  is  rooted  in  the 
Struggle  to  preserve  the  life  of  others. 

That  an  Other-regarding  principle  should  sooner  or 
later  appear  on  the  world's  stage  was  a  necessity  if 
the  world  was  ever  to  become  a  moral  world.  And  as 
everything  in  the  moral  world  has  what  may  be  called 
a  physical  basis  to  begin  with,  it  is  not  surprising   to 


THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS.     223 

find  in  the  mere  physiological  process  of  Reproduction 
a  physical  forecast  of  the  higher  relations,  or,  more 
accurately,  to  find  the  higher  relations  manifestnig 
themselves  at  first  through  physical  relations.  The 
Struggle  for  the  Life  of  Others  formed  an  indispen- 
sable stepping-stone  to  the  development  of  the  Other- 
regarding  virtues.  Nature  always  works  with  long 
roots.  To  conduct  Other-ism  upward  into  the  higher 
sphere  without  miscarriage,  and  to  establish  it  there 
forever.  Nature  had  to  embed  it  in  the  most  ancient 
past,  so  organizing  and  endowing  protoplasm  that  life 
could  not  go  on  without  it,  and  compelling  its  contin- 
uous activity  by  the  sternest  physiological  necessity. 

To  say  that  there  is  a  certain  protest  of  the  mind 
against  associating  the  highest  ethical  ends  with  forces 
in  their  first  stage  almost  physical,  is  to  confess  a 
truth  which  all  must  feel.  Even  Haeckel,  in  contrast- 
ing the  tiny  rootlet  of  sex -attraction  between  two 
microscopic  cells  with  the  mighty  after-efllorescence  of 
love  in  the  history  of  mankind,  is  staggered  at  the 
audacity  of  the  thought,  and  pauses  in  the  heart  of 
a  profound  scientific  investigation  to  reflect  upon  it. 
After  a  panegyric  in  which  lie  says,  "  We  glorify  love 
AS  the  source  of  the  most  splendid  creations  of  art ;  ot 
the  noblest  productions  of  poetry,  of  plastic  ait,  r>nd  of 
music ;  we  reverence  in  it  the  most  powerful  factor  in 
human  civilization,  the  basis  of  family  life,  and,  conse- 
quently, of  the  development  of  the  state  ; "...  he 
adds,  "  So  wonderful  is  love,  and  so  immeasurably 
important  is  its  influence  on  mental  life,  that  in  this 
point,  more  than  in  any  otlier,  'supernatural '  causa- 
tion seems  to  mock  every  natural  explanation."  It  is 
the    mystery   of   Nature,   that  between    the    loftiest 


224     THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS. 

spiritual  heights,  and  the  lowliest  physical  depths, 
there  should  seem  to  run  a  pathway  which  the  intel- 
lect of  ^lan  may  climb,  Ilaeckel  has  spoken,  and 
rightly,  from  the  stand-point  of  humanity ;  yet  he  con- 
tinues, and  with  equal  right,  from  the  stand-point  of 
the  naturalist.  "  XotwiLhstanding  all  this,  the  com- 
parative history  of  evolution  leads  us  back  very  clearly 
and  indubitably  to  tlie  oldest  and  simplest  source  of 
love,  to  tlie  elective  affinity  of  two  differing  cells."  * 

SELF-SACRIFICE  IN  NATURE. 

It  is  not,  however,  in  Ilaeckers  "  elective  affinity 
of  differing  cells"  that  we  must  seek  the  physical 
basis  of  Altruism.  That  may  be  the  physical  basis 
of  a  passion  which  is  frequently  miscalled  Love ;  but 
Love  itself,  hi  its  true  sense  as  Self-sacrifice,  Love 
with  all  its  beautiful  elements  of  sympathy,  tender- 
ness, pity,  and  compassion,  has  come  down  a  wholly 
different  line.  It  is  well  to  be  clear  about  this  at 
once,  for  the  function  of  Reproduction  suggests  to  the 
biological  mind  a  view  of  this  factor  which  would 
limit  its  action  to  a  sphere  which  in  reality  forms 
but  the  merest  segment  of  the  wliole.  The  Struggle 
for  the  Life  of  Others  has  certainly  connected  with  it 
sex-relations,  as  we  shall  see;  but  we  can  only  use 
it  scientifically  in  its  broad  physiological  sense,  as 
literally  a  Struggling  for  Others,  a  giving  up  self  for 
Others.  And  these  others  are  not  Other-sexes.  They 
have  nothing  to  do  with  sex.  They  are  the  fruits  of 
Reproduction — the  egg,  the  seed,  the  nestling,  the 
little  child.     So  far  from  its  chief  manifestation  being 

^  Ilaopkcl,  Ei-:)lnt!on  <[■''  Mun,  Vol.  ii.,  \\  ?,'M. 


THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS.     225 

within  the  sphere  of  sex  it  is  in  the  care  and  nurt- 
ure of  the  young,  in  the  provision  everywhere 
throughout  Nature  for  the  seed  and  egg,  in  the 
endless  and  infinite  self-sacrifices  of  ]\Iaternity.  that 
Altruism  finds  its  main  expression. 

That  this  is  the  true  reading  of  the  work  of  this 
second  factor  appears  even  in  the  opening  act  of 
Reproduction  in  the  lowest  plant  or  animal.  Pledged 
by  the  first  law  of  its  being — the  law  of  self-pres- 
ervation— to  sustain  itself,  the  organism  is  at  the 
same  moment  pledged  by  the  second  law  to  give  up 
itself.  Watch  one  of  the  humblest  unicellular 
organisms  at  the  time  of  Reproduction.  The  cell, 
when  it  grows  to  be  a  certain  size,  divides  itself  into 
two,  and  each  part  sets  up  an  independent  life.  Why 
it  does  so  is  now  known.  The  protoplasm  inside  the 
cell — the  body  as  it  were — needs  continually  to  draw 
in  fresh  food.  This  is  secured  by  a  process  of 
imbibition  or  osmosis  through  the  surrounding  wall. 
But  as  the  cell  grows  large,  there  is  not  wall  enough 
to  pass  in  all  the  food  the  far  interior  needs,  for  while 
the  bulk  increases  as  the  cube  of  the  diameter,  the 
surface  increases  only  as  the  square.  The  bulk  of  the 
cell,  in  short,  has  outrun  the  absorbing  surface ;  its 
hunger  has  outgrown  its  satisfactions  ;  and  unless  the 
cell  can  devise  some  way  of  gaining  more  surface  it 
must  starve.  Hence  the  splitting  into  two  smaller 
cells.  There  is  now  more  absorbing  surface  than  the 
two  had  when  combined.  When  the  two  smaller  cells 
have  grown  as  large  as  the  original  pai-ent,  income 
and  expenditure  will  once  more  balance.  As  growth 
continues,  the  waste  begins  to  exceed  the  power  of 
ix'pair  and  the  life  of  the  cell  is  ag;iin  threatened. 
15 


226     THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS. 

The  alternatives  are  obvious.  It  must  divide,  or  die. 
If  it  divides,  what  has  saved  its  life !  Self -sacrifice. 
By  giving  up  its  life  as  an  individual,  it  has  brought 
forth  two  individuals  and  these  will  one  day  repeat 
the  surrender.  Here,  with  differences  appropriate  to 
their  distinctive  spheres,  is  the  first  great  act  of  the 
moral  life.  All  life,  in  the  beginning,  is  self-con- 
tained, self-centred,  imprisoned  in  a  single  cell.  The 
first  step  to  a  more  abundant  life  is  to  get  rid  of  this 
limitation.  And  the  first  act  of  the  prisoner  is  simply 
to  break  the  walls  of  its  cell.  The  plant  does  this  by 
a  mechanical  or  physiological  process ;  the  moral 
being  by  a  conscious  act  which  means  at  once  the 
breaking-up  of  Self-ism  and  the  recovery  of  a  larger 
self  in  Altruism.  Biologically,  Eeproduction  begins 
as  rupture.  It  is  the  release  of  the  cell,  full-fed,  yet 
unsatiated,  from  itself.  "  Except  a  corn  of  wheat  fall 
into  the  ground  and  die,  it  abideth  alone  ;  but  if  it 
die,  it  bringeth  forth  much  fruit." 

These  facts  are  not  colored  to  suit  a  purpose. 
There  is  no  other  language  in  which  science  itself  can 
state  them.  "  Reproduction  begins  as  rupture.  Large 
cells  beginning  to  die,  save  their  lives  by  sacrifice. 
Reproduction  is  literally  a  life-saving  against  the 
approach  of  death.  Whether  it  be  the  almost  random 
rupture  of  one  of  the  more  j^rimitive  forms  such  as 
jSchizoffenes,  or  the  overflow  and  separation  of  multiple 
buds  as  in  Arcella,  or  the  dissolution  of  a  few  of  the 
Infusorians,  an  organism,  which  is  becoming  ex- 
hausted, saves  itself  and  multiplies  in  reproducing."  ^ 
There  is  no  Reproduction  in  plant,  animal,  or  Man 
which  does  not  involve  self-sacrifice.  All  that  is 
1  The  Evolution  of  Sex,  page  232. 


THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS.     1127 

moral,  and  social,  and  other-regarding  has  come  along 
the  line  of  this  function.  Sacrifice,  moreover,  as  these 
physiological  facts  disclose,  is  not  an  accident,  nor 
an  accompaniment  of  Reproduction,  but  an  inevitable 
part  of  it.  It  is  the  universal  law  and  the  universal 
condition  of  life.  The  act  of  fertilization  is  the 
anabolic  restoration,  renewal,  and  rejuvenescence  of 
a  katabolic  cell  :  it  is  a  resurrection  of  the  dead 
brought  about  by  a  sacrifice  of  the  living,  a  dying  of 
part  of  life  in  order  to  further  life. 

Pass  from  the  unicellular  plant  to  one  of  the  higher 
phanerogams,  and  the  self-sacrificing  function  is  seen 
at  work  with  still  greater  definiteness,  for  thei'e  we 
have  a  clearer  contrast  with  tlie  other  function.  To 
the  physiologist  a  tree  is  not  simply  a  tree,  but  a  com- 
plicated piece  of  apparatus  for  discharging,  in  the  first 
place,  the  function  of  Nutrition.  Root,  trunk,  branch, 
twig,  leaf,  are  so  many  organs — mouths,  lungs,  cir- 
culatory-system, alimentary  canal — for  carrying  on  to 
the  utmost  perfection  the  Struggle  for  Life.  But  this 
is  not  all.  There  is  another  piece  of  apparatus  within 
this  apparatus  of  a  wholly  different  order.  It  has 
nothing  to  do  with  Nutrition.  It  has  nothing  to  do 
with  the  Struggle  for  Life.  It  is  the  flower.  The 
more  its  parts  are  studied,  in  spite  of  all  homol- 
ogies, it  becomes  more  clear  that  this  is  a  construc- 
tion of  a  unique  and  wonderful  character.  So  im- 
portant has  this  extra  apparatus  seemed  to  science, 
that  it  has  named  the  great  division  of  the  vegetable 
kingdom  to  which  this  and  all  higher  plants  belong, 
the  Phanerogams — the  flowering  plants  ;  and  it 
recognizes  the  complexity  and  physiological  value  of 
this  reproductive  specialty  by  giving  them  the  place 


228     THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS. 

of  honor  at  the  top  of  the  vegetable  creation.  Watch 
this  flower  at  Avork  for  a  httle,  and  behold  a  miracle. 
Instead  of  struggling  for  life  it  lays  down  its  life. 
After  clothing  itself  with  a  beauty  which  is  itself  the 
minister  of  unselfishness,  it  droops,  it  wastes,  it  lays 
down  its  life.  The  tree  still  lives ;  the  other  leaves 
are  fresh  and  green  ;  but  this  life  within  a  life  is 
dead.  And  why?  Because  Avithin  this  death  is  life. 
Search  among  the  withered  petals,  and  there,  in  a 
cradle  of  cunning  workmanship,  are  a  hidden  pro- 
geny of  clustering  seeds — the  gift  to  the  future  Avhich 
this  dying  mother  has  brought  into  the  world  at  the 
cost  of  leaving  it.  The  food  she  might  have  lived 
upon  is  given  to  her  children,  stored  round  each  tiny 
embryo  with  lavish  care,  so  that  when  they  waken 
into  tbe  world  tlie  first  helplessness  of  their  hunger 
is  met.  All  the  arrangements  in  plant-life  which 
concern  the  flower,  the  fruit,  and  the  seed  are  the 
creations  of  tlie  Struggle  for  the  Life  of  Others. 

No  one,  though  science  is  supposed  to  rob  all  the 
poetry  from  Nature,  reverences  a  flower  like  the 
biologist.  He  sees  in  its  bloom  the  blush  of  the  young 
mother ;  in  its  fading,  the  eternal  sacrifice  of  Mater- 
nity. A  yellow  primrose  is  not  to  him  a  yellow  prim- 
rose. It  is  an  exquisite  and  complex  structure  added 
on  to  the  primrose  plant  for  the  purpose  of  producing 
other  primrose  plants.  At  the  base  of  the  flower, 
packed  in  a  delicate  casket,  lie  a  munber  of  small 
white  objects  no  larger  than  butterflies'  eggs.  These 
are  the  eggs  of  the  primrose.  Into  this  casket,  by  a 
secret  opening,  filmy  tubes  from  the  pollen  grains — 
now  enticed  from  their  hiding-place  on  the  stamens 
and  clustered  on  the   stigma — enter   and  pour  their 


THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS.     229 

fertilizing"  fovilla  through  a  microscopic  gateway  which 
opens  in  the  wall  of  the  egg  and  leads  to  its  inmost 
heart.  Mysterious  changes  then  proceed.  The  em- 
bryo of  a  future  primrose  is  born.  Covered  with 
many  protective  coats,  it  becomes  a  seed.  The  orig- 
inal casket  swells,  hardens,  is  transformed  info  a 
rounded  capsule  opening  by  valves  or  a  deftly  con- 
structed hinge.  One  da\''  this  capsule,  crowded  with 
seeds,  breaks  open  and  completes  the  cycle  of  Repro- 
duction by  dispersing  them  over  the  ground.  There, 
by  and  bye,  they  will  burst  their  enveloping  coats, 
protrude  their  tiny  radicles,  and  repeat  the  cycle  of 
their  parents'  sacrificial  life. 

With  endless  variations  in  detail,  these  are  the 
closing  acts  in  the  Struggle  for  the  Life  of  Others  in 
the  vegetable  world.  We  have  illustrated  the  point 
from  plants,  because  this  is  the  lowest  region  where 
biological  processes  can  be  seen  in  action,  and  it  is 
essential  to  establish  beyond  dispute  the  fundamental 
nature  of  the  reproductive  function.  From  this  level 
onwards  it  might  be  possible  to  trace  its  influence, 
and  growing  influence,  throughout,  the  whole  range  of 
the  animal  kingdom  until  it  culminates  in  its  most 
consummate  expression — a  human  mother.  Some  of 
the  links  in  this  unbroken  ascent  will  be  filled  in  at 
a  later  stage — for  the  Evolution  of  Maternity  is  so 
wonderful  and  so  intricate  as  to  deserve  a  treatment 
of  its  own — but  meantime  we  must  pass  on  to  notice 
a  few  of  the  other  gifts  which  Reproduction  has  be- 
stowed upon  the  world.  In  a  rigid  sense,  it  is  im- 
possible to  separate  the  gains  to  humanity  from  the 
Reproductive  function  as  distinguished  from  those 
of  the  Nutritive.     They  are  co-operators,  not  compet- 


230     THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS. 

itors,  and  their  apparently  rival  paths  continuously 
intertwine.  But  mark  a  few  of  the  things  that  have 
mainly  grown  up  around  tliis  second  function  and 
decide  whether  or  not  it  he  a  worthy  ally  of  the 
Struggle  for  Life  in  the  Evolution  of  Man. 

To  hegin  at  the  most  remote  circumference,  con- 
sider what  the  world  owes  to-day  to  the  Struggle  for 
the  Life  of  Others  in  the  world  of  plants.  This  is  the 
humblest  sphere  in  which  it  can  offer  any  gifts  at  all, 
yet  these  are  already  of  such  a  magnitude  that  with- 
out them  the  higher  M'orld  would  not  only  he  inex- 
pressibly the  poorer,  but  could  not  continue  to  exist. 
As  we  have  just  seen,  all  the  arrangements  in  plant 
life  which  concern  the  flower  are  the  creations  of  the 
Struggle  for  the  Life  of  Others.  For  Keproduction 
alone  the  flower  is  created ;  when  the  process  is  over 
it  returns  to  the  dust.  This  miracle  of  beauty  is  a 
miracle  of  Love.  Its  splendor  of  color,  its  variega- 
tions, its  form,  its  symmetry,  its  perfume,  its  honey, 
Its  very  texture,  are  all  notes  of  Love — Love-calls  or 
Love-lures  or  Love-provisions  for  the  insect  world, 
whose  aid  is  needed  to  carry  the  pollen  from  anther 
to  stigma,  and  perfect  the  development  of  its  young. 
Yet  this  is  but  a  thing  thrown  in,  in  giving  something 
else.  The  Flower,  botanically,  is  the  herald  of  the 
Fruit.  The  Fruit,  botanically,  is  the  cradle  of  the 
Seed.  Consider  how  great  these  further  achievements 
are,  how  large  a  place  in  the  world's  history  is  filled 
by  these  two  humble  things — the  Fruits  and  Seeds  of 
plants.  Without  them  the  Struggle  for  Life  itself 
would  almost  cease.  The  animal  Struggle  for  Life  is 
a  struggle  for  what  ?  For  Fruits  and  Seeds.  All  an- 
imals in  the  long  run  depend  for  food  upon  Fruits 


THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS.     23) 

and  Seeds,  or  upon  lesser  creatures  which  have  util- 
ized  Fruits  and  Seeds.  Three-fourths  of  the  popu- 
lation of  the  Avorld  at  the  present  moment  subsist 
upon  rice.  What  is  rice?  It  is  a  seed;  a  product  of 
Reproduction.  Of  the  other  fourth,  three-fourths 
live  upon  grains — barley,  wheat,  oats,  millet.  Wliat 
are  these  grains?  Seeds — stores  of  starch  or  albumen 
which,  in  the  perfect  forethought  of  Reproduction, 
plants  bequeath  to  their  offspring.  The  foods  of  the 
world,  especially  the  children's  foods,  are  the  foods 
of  the  children  of  plants,  the  foods  which  unselfish 
activities  store  round  the  cradles  of  the  helpless,  so 
that  when  the  sun  wakens  them  to  their  new  world 
they  may  not  want.  Every  plant  in  the  world  lives 
for  Others.  It  sets  aside  something,  something  costly, 
cared  for,  the  highest  expression  of  its  nature.  The 
Seed  is  the  tithe  of  Love,  the  tithe  which  Nature 
renders  to  Man.  When  Man  lives  upon  Seeds  he 
lives  upon  Love.  Literally,  scientifically.  Love  is  Life. 
If  the  Struggle  for  Life  has  made  Man,  braced  and 
disciplined  him,  it  is  the  Struggle  foi  Love  that  sus- 
tains him. 

Pass  from  the  foods  of  Man  to  drinks,  and  the  gifts 
of  Reproduction  once  more  all  but  exhaust  the  list. 
This  may  be  mere  coincidence,  but  a  coincidence 
which  involves  both  food  and  drink  is  at  least  worth 
noting.  The  first  and  universal  food  of  the  world  is 
milk,  a  product  of  Reproduction.  All  distilled  spirits 
are  products  of  Reproduction.  All  malted  liquors  are 
made  from  the  embryos  of  plants.  All  wines  are 
juices  of  the  grape.  Even  on  the  plane  of  the  animal 
appetites,  in  mere  relation  to  Man's  hunger  and  his 
thirst,  the  factor  of  Reproduction  is  thus  seen  to  be 


232     THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS. 

fundamental.  To  interpret  the  course  of  Evolution 
without  this  would  be  to  leave  the  richest  side  even 
of  material  Nature  Avithout  an  explanation.  Retrace 
the  ground  even  thus  hastily  travelled  over,  and  see 
how  full  Creation  is  of  meaning,  of  anticipation,  of 
good  for  Man,  how  far  back  begins  the  undertone  of 
Love.  Remember  that  nearly  all  the  beavity  of  the 
world  is  Love-beauty — the  corolla  of  the  flower  and 
the  plume  of  the  grass,  the  lamp  of  the  fire-fly,  the 
plumage  of  the  bird,  the  horn  of  the  stag,  the  face  of 
a  woman ;  that  nearly  all  tlie  music  of  the  natural 
world  is  Love-music — the  song  of  the  nightingale,  the 
call  of  the  mammal,  the  chorus  of  the  insect,  the 
serenade  of  the  lover ;  that  nearly  all  the  foods  of  the 
world  are  Love-foods — the  date  and  the  raisin,  the 
banana  and  the  bread-fruit,  the  locust  and  the  honey, 
the  eggs,  the  grains,  the  seeds,  the  cereals,  and  the 
legumes  ;  that  all  the  drinks  of  the  world  are  Love- 
drinks — the  juices  of  the  sprouting  grain  and  the 
withered  hop,  the  milk  from  the  udder  of  the  cow, 
the  wine  from  the  Love-cup  of  the  vine.  Remember 
that  the  Family,  the  crown  of  all  higher  life,  is  the 
creation  of  Love;  that  Co-operation,  which  means 
power,  which  means  Avealth,  Avhich  means  leisure, 
which  tlierefore  ineans  art  and  culture,  recreation  and 
education,  is  the  gift  of  Love.  Remember  not  only 
these  things,  but  tlie  diffusions  of  feeling  which  ac- 
company tliem,  tlie  elevations,  the  ideals,  the  happi- 
ness, the  goodness,  and  the  faith  in  more  goodness, 
and  ask  if  it  is  not  a  world  of  Love  in  which  we  live. 

CO-OPERATION  IN  NATURE. 
Though  Co-operation  is  not  exclusively  the  gift  of 


THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS.     233 

Reproduction,  ifc  is  so  closely  related  to  it  that  we 
may  next  observe  a  few  of  the  fruits  of  this  most 
definitely  altruistic  principle.  For  here  is  a  principle, 
not  inerely  a  series  of  interesting  phenomena,  pro- 
foundly rooted  in  Nature  and  having  for  its  imme- 
diate pui'pose  the  establishment  of  Other-isin.  In 
innumerable  cases,  doubtless,  Co-operation  has  been 
induced  rather  by  the  action  of  the  Struggle  for  Life — 
a  striking  circumstance  in  itself,  as  showing  how  the 
very  selfish  side  of  life  has  had  to  pay  its  debt  to  the 
larger  law — but  in  nmltitudes  more  it  is  directly  allied 
with  tlie  Struggle  for  the  Life  of  Others. 

For  illustrations  of  the  principle  in  general  we  may 
begin  with  the  very  dawn  of  life.  Every  life  at  first 
was  a  single  cell.  Co-operation  was  unknown.  Each 
cell  was  self-contained  and  self-sufficient,  and  as  new 
cells  budded  from  the  parent  they  moved  away  and 
set  up  life  for  themselves.  This  self-sufficiency 
leads  to  nothing  in  Evolution.  Unicellnlar  organ- 
isms may  be  multiplied  to  infinity,  but  the  vegetable 
kingdom  can  never  rise  in  height,  or  symmetry,  or 
productiveness  without  some  radical  change.  But 
soon  we  find  the  co-operative  pi-inciple  beginning  its 
mysterious  integrating  work.  Two,  three,  four,  eight, 
ten  cells  club  together  and  form  a  small  mat,  or 
cylinder,  or  ribbon — the  humblest  forms  of  corporate 
plant-life — in  which  each  individual  cell  divides  the 
responsibilities  and  the  gains  of  living  with  the  rest. 
The  colony  succeeds ;  grows  larger;  its  co-operations 
become  more  close  and  varied.  Division  of  labor  in 
new  directions  arises  for  the  eonnnon  good ;  leaves 
are  organized  for  nuti-ilion,  and  special  cells  for  re- 
production.    All  the  oi-gans  increase  in  specialization; 


234    THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS. 

and  the  time  arrives  when  from  cryptogams  the  plant- 
world  bursts  into  flowers.  A  flower  is  organized  for 
Co-operation.  It  is  not  an  individual  entity,  but  a 
commune,  a  most  complex  social  system.  Sepal, 
petal,  stamen,  anther,  each  has  its  separate  r61e  in  the 
economy,  each  necessary  to  the  other  and  to  the  life  of 
the  species  as  a  whole.  Mutual  aid  having  reached 
this  stage  can  never  be  arrested  short  of  the  extinction 
of  plant-life  itself. 

Even  after  this  stage,  so  triumphant  is  the  success 
of  the  Co-operative  Principle,  that  having  exhausted 
tl)e  possibilities  of  further  development  within  the 
vegetable  kingdom,  it  overflowed  these  boundaries  and 
carried  the  activities  of  flowers  into  regions  which 
the  plant-world  never  invaded  before.  With  a  novelty 
and  audacity  unique  in  organic  Nature,  the  higher 
flowering  plants,  stimulated  by  Co-operation,  opened 
communication  with  two  apparently  forever  unrelated 
worlds,  and  established  alliances  which  secured  from 
the  subjects  of  these  distant  states,  a  perpetual  and 
vital  service.  The  history  of  these  relations  forms  the 
most  entrancing  chapter  in 'botanical  science.  But 
so  powerfully  has  this  illustration  of  the  principle 
appealed  already  to  the  popular  imagination,  that  it 
becomes  a  mere  form  to  restate  it.  What  interests 
us  anew  in  these  novel  enterprises,  nevertheless,  is 
that  they  arc  directly  connected  with  the  Repro- 
ductive Struggle.  For  it  is  not  for  food  that  the 
plant-world  voyages  into  foreign  spheres,  but  to  perfect 
the  supremer  labor  of  its  life. 

The  vegetable  world  is  a  world  of  still  life.  No 
higher  plant  has  the  power  to  move  to  help  its  neigh- 
bor,   or    even    to    help    itself,  at  the    most    critical 


THE  STRUGGLE  EOli  THE  LIEE  OE  OTHERS.     235 


moment  of  its  life.  And  it  is  through  this  very  help- 
lessness that  these  new  Co-operations  are  called  forth. 
The  fertilizing  pollen  grows  on  one  part  of  the  fiowcr, 
the  stigma  wliich  is  to  receive  it  grows  on  another,  or  it 
may  be  on  a  different  plant.  But  as  these  parts  can- 
not move  towards  one  another,  the  flower  calls  in  the 
aid  of  moving  things.  Unconscious  of  their  vicarious 
service,  the  butterfly  and  the  bee,  as  they  flit  from 
flower  to  flower,  or  the  wind  as  it  blows  across  the 
lields,  carry  the  fertilizing  dust  to  the  waiting  stigma, 
and  complete  that  act  witliout  which  in  a  generation 
the  species  would  become  extinct.  No  flower  in  the 
world,  at  least  no  entomophilous  flower,  can  contin- 
uously develop  healthy  offspring  without  the  Co-oper- 
ations of  an  insect;  and  multitudes  of  flowers  without 
such  aid  could  never  seed  at  all.  It  is  to  these  Co- 
operations that  we  owe  all  that  is  beautiful  and 
fragrant  in  the  flower-world.  To  attract  the  insect 
and  recompense  it  for  its  trouble,  a  banquet  of  honey 
is  spread  in  the  heart  of  the  flower  ;  and  to  enable  the 
visitor  to  find  the  nectar,  the  leaves  of  the  flower  are 
made  showy  or  conspicuous  beyond  all  other  leaves. 
To  meet  the  case  ot  insects  which  love  the  dusk,  many 
flowers  are  colored  white ;  for  those  which  move 
about  at  night  and  cannot  see  at  all,  the  night-flowers 
load  tlie- darkness  with  their  sweet  perfume.  The 
loveliness,  the  variegations  of  shade  and  tint,  the 
ornamentations,  the  scents,  the  shapes,  the  sizes  of 
flowers,  are  all  the  gifts  of  Co-operation.  The  flower 
in  every  detail,  in  fact,  is  a  monument  to  the  Co-oper- 
ative Principle. 

Scarcely  less  singular  are  the  Co-operations  .among 
flowers  themselves  the  better  to  attract  the  attention 


2oG     THE  STIiUOGLE  FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS. 


of  the  insect  world.  Many  flowers  are  so  small  and 
inconspicuous  that  insects  might  not  condescend  to 
notice  them.  But  Altruism  is  always  inventive.  In- 
stead of  dispersing  their  tiny  florets  over  the  plant, 
these  club  together  at  single  points,  so  that  by  the 
multitude  of  numbers  an  imposing  show  is  made. 
Each  of  the  associating  flowers  in  these  cases  pre- 
serves its  individuality,  and — as  we  see  in  the  Elder  or 
the  Hemlock — continues  to  grow  on  its  own  flower 
stalk.  But  in  still  more  ingenious  species  the  part- 
ners to  a  floral  advertisement  sacrifice  their  separate 
stems  and  cluster  close  together  on  a  common  head. 
The  Thistle,  for  example,  is  not  one  flower,  but  a 
colony  of  flowers,  each  complete  in  all  its  parts,  but 
all  gaining  the  advantage  of  conspicuousness  by  dense- 
ly packing  themselves  together.  In  the  Sun-flowers 
and  many  others  the  sacrifice  is  carried  still  further. 
Of  the  multitude  of  florets  clustered  together  to  form 
the  mass  of  color,  a  few  cease  the  development  of  the 
reproductive  organs  altogether,  and  allow  their  whole 
sti-ength  to  go  towards  adding  visibility  to  the  mass. 
The  florets  in  the  centre  of  the  group,  packed  close 
together,  are  unable  to  do  anything  in  this  direction ; 
but  those  on  the  margin  expand  the  perianth  into  a 
blazing  circle  of  flame,  and  leave  the  deep  work  of 
Reproduction  to  those  within.  What  are  the  advan- 
tages gained  by  all  this  mutual  aid?  That  it  makes 
them  the  fittest  to  survive.  These  Co-operative 
Plants  are  among  the  most  numerous,  most  vigorous, 
and  most  widely  diffused  in  Nature.  Self-saci-ifice 
and  Co-operation  are  thus  recognized  as  sound  in 
principle.  The  blessing  of  Xature  falls  upon  them. 
The  words   themselves,  in   any   more   than  a  merely 


THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS.     237 

physical  sense,  are  hopelessly  out  of  court  in  any 
scientific  interpretation  of  things.  But  the  pohit  to 
mark  is  that  on  the  mechanical  equivalent  of  what 
afterwards  come  to  have  ethical  relations  Natural  Se- 
lection places  a  premium.  Non-co-operative  or  feebly 
co-operative  organisms  go  to  the  wall.  Those  which 
give  mutual  aid  survive  and  people  the  world  with 
their  kind.  "Without  pausing  to  note  the  intricate 
Co-operations  of  flowers  wliich  reward  the  eye  of 
the  specialist— the  subtle  alliance  with  Space  in 
Dioecious  flowers  ;  with  Time  in  Dichogamous  species, 
and  with  Size  in  the  Dimorphic  and  Ti'imorphic  forms 
— consider  for  a  moment  the  extension  of  the  principle 
to  the  Seed  and  Fruit.  Helpless,  singlehanded,  as  is  a 
higher  plant,  with  regard  to  the  efficient  fertilizing  of 
its  flowers,  an  almost  more  difficult  problem  awaits  it 
when  it  comes  to  the  dispersal  of  its  seeds.  If  each 
seed  fell  where  it  grew,  the  spread  of  the  species 
would  shortly  be  at  an  end.  But  Nature,  working  on 
the  principle  of  Co-operation,  is  once  more  redundant 
in  its  provisions.  By  a  series  of  new  alliances  the 
offspring  are  given  a  start  on  distant  and  unoccupied 
ground ;  and  so  perfect  are  the  arrangements  in  this 
department  of  the  Struggle  for  the  Life  of  Others  that 
single  plants,  immovably  rooted  in  the  soil,  are  yet 
able  to  distribute  their  children  over  the  world.  By  a 
hundred  devices  tlie  fruits  and  seeds  when  ripe  are 
entrusted  to  outside  hands — provided  with  wing  or 
parachute  and  launched  upon  the  wind,  attached  by 
cunning  contrivances  to  bird  and  beast,  or  dropped 
into  stream  and  wave  and  ocean-current,  and  so  trans- 
ported over  the  earth. 

If  we  turn  to  the  Animal  Kingdom,  the  Principle  of 


238     TUE  STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS. 

Co-operation  everywhere  once  nioi-e  confronts  us.  It 
is  singular  that,  with  few  exce^jtions,  science  sliould 
still  know  so  little  of  the  daily  life  of  even  the  com- 
mon animals.  A  few  favorite  mammals,  some  birds, 
three  or  four  of  the  more  picturesque  and  clever  of  the 
insects — these  almost  exhaust  the  list  of  those  whose 
ways  are  thoroughly  known.  But,  looking  broadly  at 
Nature,  one  general  fact  is  striking — the  more  social 
animals  are  in  overwhelming  preponderance  over  the 
unsocial.  Mr.  Darwin's  dictum,  that  "  those  commu- 
nities which  included  the  greatest  number  of  the  most 
sympathetic  members  would  flourish  best,"  is  wholly 
proved.  Run  over  the  names  of  the  commoner  or 
more  dominant  mammals,  and  it  will  be  found  that 
they  are  those  wliich  have  at  least  a  measure  of  socia- 
bility. The  cat- tribe  excepted,  nearly  all  live  together 
in  herds  or  troops — the  elephant,  for  instance,  the 
buffalo,  deer,  antelope,  wild-goat,  sheep,  \volf,  jackal, 
reindeer,  hippopotamus,  zebra,  hyena,  and  seal. 
These  are  mammals,  observe — an  association  of  socia- 
bility in  its  highest  developments  witli  reproductive 
specialization.  Cases  undoubtedly  exist  where  the 
sociability  may  not  be  refei'able  primaiily  to  this  func- 
tion ;  but  in  most  the  chief  Co-operations  are  centi-ed 
in  Love.  So  advantageous  are  all  forms  of  mutual 
service  that  the  question  may  be  fairly  asked  whether 
after  all  Co-operation  and  Sympathy — at  tirst  instinc- 
tive, afterwards  reasoned — are  not  the  greatest  facts 
even  in  organic  Nature  ?  To  quote  the  words  ol 
Prince  Kropotkin  :  "  As  soon  as  Ave  study  animals — 
not  in  laboratories  and  museums  only,  but  in  the  for- 
est and  the  prairie,  in  the  steppes  and  the  m.ountains 
— we  at  once  perceive   that  though   there  is  an  im- 


THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS.     239 

mense  amount  of  Avarfare  and  extermination  going  on 
amidst  various  species,  and  especially  amidst  various 
classes  of  animals,  thei'e  is,  at  the  same  time,  as  much, 
or  perhaps  more,  of  mutual  support,  mutual  aid,  and 
mutual  defence,  amidst  animals  belonging  to  the  same 
species  or,  at  least,  to  the  same  society.  Sociability  is 
as  much  a  law  of  Xature  as  mutual  struggle.  .  .  . 
If  we  resort  to  an  indirect  test  and  ask  Nature  '  Who 
are  the  fittest :  those  who  are  continually  at  war  with 
each  other,  or  those  who  support  one  another  ? '  we  at 
once  see  that  those  animals  which  acquire  habits  of 
mutual  aid  are  undoubtedly  the  fittest.  They  have 
more  chances  to  survive,  and  they  attain,  in  tlieir  re- 
spective classes,  the  highest  development  of  intelli- 
gence and  bodily  organization.  If  the  numberless 
facts  which  can  be  brought  forward  to  support  this 
view  are  taken  into  account,  we  may  safely  say  that 
mutual  aid  is  as  much  a  law  of  animal  life  as  mutual 
struggle  ;  but  that,  as  a  factor  of  evolution,  it  most 
probably  has  a  far  greater  importance,  inasmuch  as  it 
favors  the  development  of  such  habits  and  character 
as  insure  the  maintenance  and  further  development  of 
the  species,  together  with  the  greatest  amount  of  wel- 
fare and  enjoyment  of  life  for  the  individual,  with  the 
least  waste  of  energy."  ^ 

In  the  large  economy  of  Nature,  almost  more  than 
within  these  specific  regions,  the  inter-dependence  of 
part  with  part  is  unalterably  established.  The  sys- 
tem of  things,  from  top  to  bottom,  is  an  uninterrupted 
series  of  reciprocities.  Kingdom  corresponds  with 
kingdom,  organic  with  inorganic.  Thus,  to  carry  on 
the  larger  agriculture  of  Nature,  myriads  of  living 
^  yinctccnth  Century,  1890,  p.  340. 


240     THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS. 

creatures  have  to  be  retained  in  the  earth  itself — in 
the  earth — and  to  prepare  and  renew  the  soils  in 
which  the  otherwise  exhausted  ground  may  keep  up 
her  continuous  gifts  of  vegetation.  Ages  before  Man 
appeared  with  his  tools  of  husbandry,  these  agricultur- 
ists of  Nature — in  humid  countries  the  Worm,  in  sub- 
tropical regions  the  White  Ant — ploughed  and  har- 
Towed  the  earth,  so  that  without  the  Co-operations  of 
tliese  most  lowly  forms  of  life,  the  higher  beauty  and 
fruitfulness  of  the  world  had  been  impossible.  The 
very  existence  of  animal  life,  to  take  another  case  of 
broad  economy,  is  possible  only  through  the  media- 
tion of  the  plant.  No  animal  has  the  power  to  satisfy 
one  single  impulse  of  hunger  without  the  Co-operation 
of  the  vegetable  world.  It  is  one  of  the  mysteries  of 
organic  chemistry  that  the  Chlorophyll  contained  in 
the  green  parts  of  plants,  alone  among  substances,  has 
the  power  to  break  up  the  mineral  kingdom  and 
utilize  the  products  as  food.  Though  detected  re- 
cently in  the  tissues  of  two  of  the  very  lowest  ani- 
mals. Chlorophyll  is  the  peculiar  possession  of  the 
vegetable  kingdom,  and  forms  the  solitary  point  of 
contact  between  JMan  and  all  higher  animals  and  their 
supply  of  food.  Every  grain  of  matter  therefoi'c  eaten 
by  Man,  every  movement  of  the  body,  eveiy  stroke  of 
work  done  by  muscle  or  brain,  depends  upon  the  con- 
tribution of  a  plant,  or  of  an  aiumal  which  has  eaten 
a  plant.  Remove  the  vegetable  kingdom,  or  interrupt 
the  flow  of  its  unconscious  benefactions,  and  the  whole 
higher  life  of  the  world  ends.  Everything,  indeed, 
came  into  being  because  of  something  else,  and  con- 
tinues to  be  because  of  its  relations  to  something  else. 
The  matter  of  the  earth  is  built  up  of  co-operating 


THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS.     241 

atoms  ;  it  owes  its  existence,  its  motion,  and  its  stabil- 
ity to  co-operating  stars.  Plants  and  animals  are 
made  of  co-operating  cells,  nations  of  co-operating 
men.  Natui-e  makes  no  move,  Society  achieves  no 
end,  the  Cosmos  advances  not  one  step,  that  is  not  de- 
pendent on  Co-operation  ;  and  while  the  discords  of 
the  world  disappear  with  growing  knowledge,  Science 
only  reveals  with  increasing  clearness  the  universality 
of  its  reciprocities. 

But  to  return  to  the  more  direct  effects  of  Re- 
production. After  creating  Others  there  lay  before 
Evolution  a  not  less  necessary  task — the  task  of 
uniting  them  together.  To  create  units  in  indef- 
inite quantities  and  scatter  them  over  the  world 
is  not  even  to  take  one  single  step  in  progress. 
Before  any  higher  evolution  can  take  place  these 
units  must  b}^  some  means  be  brought  into  relation 
so  as  not  only  to  act  together,  but  to  react  upon 
each  other.  According  to  well-known  biological 
laws,  it  is  oidy  in  combinations,  whether  of  atoms, 
cells,  animals,  or  human  beings,  that  individual 
units  can  make  any  progress,  and  to  create  such 
combinations  is  in  every  case  the  first  condition 
of  development.  Hence  the  first  commandment 
of  Evolution  everywhere  is  "  Thou  shalt  mass, 
segregate,  combine,  grow  large."  Organic  Evo- 
lution, as  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer  tells  us,  "  is  prima- 
rily the  foi-mation  of  an  aggregate."  No  doubt  the 
necessities  of  the  Struggle  for  Life  tended  in  many 
ways  to  fultil  this  condition,  and  tlie  organization 
of  primitive  societies,  both  animal  and  human,  are 
largely  its  creation.  Under  its  influence  these  were 
callefl  together  for  mutual  protection  and  mutual  lielp; 
]6 


242     THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  OTUEliS. 

and  Co-operations  induced  in  this  way  have  played  an 
important  part  in  Evolution.  But  the  Co-operations 
brought  about  by  Reproduction  are  at  once  more 
radical,  more  universal,  and  more  eflficient.  The 
Struggle  for  Life  is  in  part  a  disruptive  force.  The 
Struggle  for  the  Life  of  Others  is  wholly  a  social 
force.  The  social  efforts  of  the  first  are  secondary  ; 
those  of  the  last  are  primary.  And  had  it  not  been 
for  the  stronger  and  unbreakable  bond  which  the 
Struggle  for  the  Life  of  Otliers  introduced  into  the 
world  the  organization  of  Societies  had  never  even 
been  begun.  IIow  subtly  Reproduction  effects  its 
purpose  an  illustration  Avill  make  plain.  And  Me 
shall  select  it  again  from  the  lowest  world  of  life,  so 
that  the  fundamental  nature  of  this  factor  may  be 
once  more  vindicated  on  the  Avay. 

More  than  two  thousand  years  ago  Herodotus  ob- 
served a  remarkable  custom  in  Egypt.  At  a  certain 
season  of  the  year,  the  Egyptians  went  into  the  desert, 
cut  off  branches  from  the  wild  palms,  and,  bringing 
them  back  to  their  gardens,  waved  them  over  the 
flowers  of  the  date-palm.  AVhy  they  performed  this 
ceremony  they  did  not  know ;  but  they  knew  that  if 
they  neglected  it,  the  date  crop  would  be  poor  or 
wholly  lost.  Herodotus  offers  the  quaint  explanation 
that  along  with  these  branches  there  came  from  the 
desert  certain  flies  possessed  of  a  "  vivific  virtue," 
which  somehow  lent  an  exuberant  fertility  to  the 
dates.  But  the  true  rationale  of  the  incantation  is 
now  explained.  Palm-trees,  like  human  beings,  are 
male  and  female.  The  garden  plants,  the  date- 
bearers,  were  females  ,  the  desert  plants  were  males  ; 
and   the    waving-   of   the   branches   over    the    females 


THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS.     243 

meant  the  transference  of  the  fertiUzing   pollen  dust 
from  the  one  to  the  other. 

Now  consider,  in  this  far-away  province  of  the 
vegetable  kingdom,  the  strangeness  of  this  phenom- 
enon. Here  are  two  trees  living  wholly  different 
lives,  they  are  separated  by  miles  of  desert  sand  ; 
they  are  unconscious  of  one  another's  existence  ;  and 
yet  they  are  so  linked  together  that  their  separation 
into  two  is  a  mere  illusion.  Physiologically  they  are 
one  tree ;  they  cannot  dwell  apart.  It  is  nothing  to 
the  point  that  they  are  neither  dowered  with  locomo 
tion  nor  the  power  of  conscious  choice.  The  point 
is  that  there  is  that  in  Nature  which  unites  these 
seemingly  disunited  things,  which  effects  combina- 
tions and  co-operations  where  one  would  least  believe 
them  possible,  which  sustains  by  arrangements  of  the 
most  elaborate  kind  inter-relations  between  tree  and 
tree.  I]y  a  device  the  most  subtle  of  all  that  guard 
the  higher  Evolution  of  the  world — the  device  of  Sex 
— Nature  accomplishes  this  task  of  throwing  irre- 
sistible bonds  around  widely  separate  things,  and 
establishing  such  sympathies  between  them  that 
they  must  act  together  or  forfeit  the  very  life  of 
their  kind.  Sex  is  a  para,dox ;  it  is  tliat  which  sepa- 
rates in  order  to  unite.  The  same  mysterious  mesh 
which  Nature  threw  over  the  two  separate  palms,  she 
threw  over  the  few  and  scattered  units  which  were  to 
form  the  nucleus  of  iVIankind. 

Picture  the  state  of  primitive  Man  ;  his  fear  of 
other  primitive  Men  ;  his  hatred  of  them  ;  his  un- 
sociability ;  his  isolation  ;  and  think  how  great  a 
thing  was  done  by  Sex  in  merely  starting  the  crystal- 
lization of  humanity.     At  no  period,  indeed,  was  Man 


244     THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS. 

ever  utterly  alone.  There  is  no  such  thing  in  nature 
as  a  man,  or  for  the  matter  of  that  as  an  animal, 
except  among  the  very  humblest  forms.  Wherever 
there  is  a  higher  animal  there  is  another  animal ; 
wherever  there  is  a  savage  there  is  another  savage — • 
the  other  half  of  him,  a  female  savage.  This  much,  at 
least.  Sex  has  done  for  the  world — it  has  abolished 
the  numeral  one.  Observe,  it  has  not  simply  discour- 
aged the  existence  of  one ;  it  has  abolished  the  exist- 
ence of  one.  The  solitary  animal  must  die,  and  can 
leave  no  successor.  Unsociableness,  therefore,  is  ban- 
ished out  of  the  world  ;  it  has  become  the  very  con- 
dition of  continued  existence  that  there  should  always 
be  a  family  group,  or  at  least  pair.  The  determi- 
nation of  Nature  to  lay  the  foundation  stone  of  corpo- 
rate national  life  at  this  point,  and  to  embed  Socia- 
bility forever  in  the  constitution  of  humanity,  is  only 
obvious  when  Ave  reflect  with  what  extraordinary 
thoroughness  this  Evolution  of  Sex  was  carried  out. 
There  is  no  instance  in  Nature  of  Division  of  Labor 
being  brought  to  such  extreme  specialization.  The 
two  sexes  were  not  only  set  apart  to  perform  different 
halves  of  the  same  function,  but  each  so  entirely  lost 
the  power  of  performing  the  whole  function  that  even 
with  so  great  a  thing  at  stake  as  the  continuance  of 
the  species  one  could  not  discharge  it.  Association, 
combination,  nuitual  help,  fellowship,  affection — things 
on  which  all  material  and  moral  progress  would 
ultimately  turn — were  thus  forced  upon  the  world 
at  the  bayonet's  point. 

This  hint,  that  the  course  of  development  is  taking 
a  social  rather  than  an  individual  direction,  is  of  im- 
mense significance.     If  that   can  be  bi'ought  about  by 


THE  STRUaaLE  FOli    J  HE  LIFE  OF  OTHEUS.     245 

the  Struggle  for  the  Life  of  Otliers — and  in  the  next 
cliapters  we  shall  see  that  it  has  been — there  can  be 
no  dispute  about  the  rank  of  the  factor  wliich  con- 
sunnnates  it.  Along  the  line  of  the  physiological 
function  of  Reproduction,  in  association  with  its  in- 
duced activities  and  relations,  not  only  has  Altruism 
entered  the  world,  but  along  with  it  the  necessary 
field  for  its  expansion  and  full  expression.  If  Nature 
is  to  be  read  solely  in  the  light  of  the  Struggle  for 
Life,  these  ethical  anticipations — and  as  yet  we  are 
but  at  the  beginning  of  them — for  a  social  world  and 
a  moral  life,  must  remain  the  stultification  both  of 
science  and  of  teleology. 

THE  ETHICAL  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  SEX. 

Next  among  the  gifts  of  Reproduction  fall  to  be 
examined  some  further  contributions  yielded  by  the 
new  and  extraordinary  device  which  a  moment  ago 
leaped  into  prominence — Sex.  The  direct,  and  es- 
pecially the  collateral,  issues  here  are  of  such  signifi- 
cance that  it  will  be  essential  to  study  them  in  detail. 
Realize  the  novelty  and  originality  of  this  most  highly 
specialized  creation,  and  it  will  be  seen  at  once  that 
something  of  exceptional  moment  must  lie  behind  it. 
Here  is  a  phenomenon  which  stands  absolutel}'  alone 
on  the  field  of  Nature.  There  is  not  only  nothing  at 
all  like  it  in  the  world,  but  while  everything  else  has 
homologues  or  analogues  somewhere  in  the  cosmos, 
this  is  without  any  parallel.  Familiarity  has  so  ac- 
customed us  to  it  that  we  accept  the  sex  separation 
as  a  matter  of  course  ;  but  no  words  can  do  justice  to 
the  wonder  and  novelty  of  this  strange  line  of  cleav- 


24G     THE  ST  HUG  CLE  FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS. 


age  which  cuts  down  to  the  very  root  of  being  in 
everything  that  lives. 

No  tlieme  of  eqiiiil  importance  has  received  less 
attention  than  this  from  evolutionary  philosophy. 
The  single  problems  which  sex  suggests  have  been 
investigated  with  a  keenness  and  brilliance  of  treat- 
ment never  before  brought  to  bear  in  this  mysterious 
region ;  and  Mr.  Darwin's  theory  of  sexual  selection, 
whether  true  or  false,  has  called  attention  to  a  multi- 
tude of  things  in  living  Nature  which  seem  to  find  a 
possible  explanation  here.  But  the  broad  and  simple 
fact  that  this  division  into  maleness  and  femaleness 
should  run  betAveen  almost  every  two  of  every  plant 
and  every  animal  in  existence,  must  have  implications 
of  a  quite  exceptional  kind. 

How  deep,  from  the  very  dawn  of  life,  this  rent 
between  the  two  sexes  yawns  is  only  now  beginning 
to  be  seen.  Examine  one  of  the  humblest  water 
weeds — the  Spirogyra.  It  consists  of  waving  threads 
or  necklaces  of  cells,  each  plant  to  the  eye  the  exact 
duplicate  of  the  other.  Yet  externally  alike  as  they 
seem,  the  one  has  the  physiological  value  of  the  male, 
the  other  of  the  female.  Though  a  primitive  method 
of  Reproduction,  the  process  in  this  case  foreshadows 
the  law  of  all  higher  vegetable  life.  From  this  point 
upwards,  though  there  are  many  cases  where  repro- 
duction is  asexual,  in  nearly  every  family  of  plants  a 
Reproduction  by  spores  takes  place,  and  where  it  does 
not  take  place  its  absence  is  abnormal,  and  to  be 
accounted  for  by  degeneration.  When  we  reach  the 
higher  plants  the  differences  of  sex  become  as  marked 
as  among  the  higher  animals.  Male  and  female 
flowers  grow  upon  separate  trees,  or  live  side  by  side 


THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS.     247 

on  the  same  branch,  yet  so  nnhke  one  another  in  form 
and  color  that  the  untrained  eye  would  never  know 
them  to  be  relatives.  Even  when  male  and  female  are 
grown  on  the  same  flower-stalk  and  enclosed  in  a 
common  pei'ianth,  the  hermaphroditism  is  generally 
but  apparent,  owing  to  the  physiological  barriers  of 
heteroniorphism  and  dichogamy.  Sex-separation,  in- 
deed, is  not  only  distinct  among  flowering  plants,  but 
is  kept  up  by  a  variety  of  complicated  devices,  and  a 
return  to  hermaphroditism  is  prevented  by  the  most 
elaborate  precautions. 

When  we  turn  to  the  animal  kingdom  again,  the 
same  great  contrast  arrests  us.  Half  a  century  ago, 
when  Balbiani  described  the  male  and  female  elements 
in  microscopic  infusorians,  his  facts  were  all  but 
rejected  by  science.  But  further  research  has  placed 
it  l)eyond  all  doubt  that  the  beginnings  of  sex  are 
synchronous  almost  with  those  sliadowings  in  of  life. 
From  a  state  marked  by  a  mere  varying  of  the  nuclear 
elements,  a  state  which  might  almost  be  described  as 
one  antecedent  to  sex,  the  sex-distinction  slowly 
gathers  definition,  and  passing  through  an  infinite 
variety  of  forms,  and  with  countless  shades  of 
emphasis,  reaches  at  last  the  climax  of  separateness 
which  is  observed  among  birds  and  mammals.  Often, 
even  in  the  Metazoa,  this  separateness  is  outwardly 
obscured,  as  in  star-fishes  and  reptiles ;  often  it  is 
matter  of  common  observation  ;  wliile  sometimes  it  is 
carried  to  such  a  pitch  of  specialization  that  only  the 
naturalist  identifies  the  two  wholly  unlike  creatures 
as  male  and  female.  Through  the  whole  wide  field 
of  Nature  then  this  gulf  is  fixed.  Each  page  of  the 
million-leaved  Book  of  Species  must  be  as  it  were  split 


248  THE  STRUGGLE  FOE  THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS. 

in  two,  the  one  side  for  the  male,  the  other  for  the 
female.  Classification  naturally  takes  little  note  of 
this  distinction ;  but  it  is  fundamental.  Unllkenesses 
between  like  things  are  more  significant  tlian  unllke- 
nesses of  unlike  things.  And  the  inilikenesses  be- 
tween male  and  female  are  never  small,  and  almost 
always  great.  Though  the  fundamental  difference  is 
internal  the  external  form  varies ;  size,  color,  and  a 
multitude  of  more  or  less  striking  secondary  sexual 
characteristics  separate  the  one  from  the  other.  Be- 
sides this,  and  more  important  than  all,  the  cycle  of  a 
year's  life  is  never  the  same  for  the  male  as  for  the 
female ;  tiiey  are  destined  from  the  beginning  to  pur- 
sue different  paths,  to  live  for  different  ends. 

Now  wliat  does  all  this  mean  ?  To  say  that  the  sex- 
distinction  is  necessary  to  sustain  the  existence  of  life 
in  the  world  is  no  answer,  since  it  is  at  least  possible 
that  life  could  have  been  kept  up  without  it.  From 
the  facts  of  Parthenogenesis,  illustrated  in  bees  and 
termites,  it  is  now  certain  that  Reproduction  can  be 
effected  without  fertilization  ;  and  the  circumstance 
that  fertilization  is  nevertheless  the  rule,  proves 
this  method  of  Reproduction,  though  not  a  neces- 
sity, to  be  in  some  way  beneficial  to  life.  It  is 
important  to  notice  this  absence  of  necessity  for  sex 
having  been  created — the  absence  of  any  known 
necessity — from  the  merely  physiological  stand-point. 
Is  it  inconceivable  that  Nature  should  sometimes  do 
things  with  an  ulterior  object,  an  ethical  one,  for 
instance?  To  no  one  Avith  any  acquaintance  with 
Nature's  ways  will  it  be  possible  to  conceive  of  such 
a  purpose  as  the  sole  purpose.  In  these  early  days 
when  sex  was  instituted  it  was  a  physical  universe. 


THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS.     249 

Undoubtedly  sex  then  had  physiolog-ical  advantages; 
but  when  in  a  later  day  the  ethical  advantages  become 
visible,  and  rise  to  such  significance  that  the  higher 
world  nearly  wholly  rests  upon  them,  w^e  are  entitled, 
as  viewing  the  world  from  that  higher  level,  to  have 
our  own  suspicions  as  to  a  deeper  motive  underlying 
the  physical. 

Apart  from  bare  necessity,  it  is  further  remarkable 
that  no  very  clear  advantage  of  the  sex-distinction  has 
yet  l)een  made  out  by  Science.  Hensen  and  Van 
Beneden  are  able  to  see  in  conjugation  no  more  than  a 
Verjiingiing  or  rejuvenescence  of  the  species.  The 
living  machinery  in  its  wearing  activities  runs  down 
and  has  to  be  wound  up  again  ;  to  keep  life  going  some 
fresh  impulse  must  be  introduced  from  time  to  time  ; 
or  the  protoi)lasm,  exhausting  itself,  seeks  restoration 
in  fertilization  and  starts  afresh.^  To  Ilatschek  it  is 
a  remedy  against  the  action  of  injurious  variations; 
while  to  Weismann  it  is  simply  the  source  of  varia- 
tions. "  I  do  not  know,"  says  the  latter,  "  Avhat  mean- 
ing can  be  attributed  to  sexual  reproduction  other 
than  the  creation  of  hereditary  individual  characters 
ro  form  the  material  on  Avhich  natural  selection  may 
work.  Sexual  reproduction  is  so  universal  in  all 
classes  of  multicellular  organisms,  and  nature  deviates 
so  rarely  from  it,  that  it  must  necessarily  be  of  pre- 
eminent importance.  If  it  be  true  that  new  species 
are  produced  by  processes  of  selection,  it  follows  that 
the  development  of  the  whole  organic  world  depends 
0:1  these  processes,  and  the  part  that  amphigony 
has  to  play  in  nature,  by  rendering  selection 
possible  among  multicellular  organisms,  is  not  only 
^  Geddes  and  Thomson,  The  Evolution  of  Sex,  p.  163. 


1>0()     THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS. 

important,  but  of  the  very  highest  imaghiable  impor- 
tance." ^ 

These  views  ma}^  be  each  true ;  and  probably,  in  a 
measure,  are ;  but  tlie  fact  remains  that  the  later 
psychical  implications  of  sex  are  of  such  transcendent 
character  as  to  throw  all  physical  considerations  into 
the  shade.  When  we  turn  to  these,  their  significance 
is  as  obvious  as  in  the  other  case  it  was  obscure. 
This  will  appear  if  we  take  even  the  most  dis- 
tinctively biological  of  these  theories — that  of  Weis- 
mann.  Sex,  to  him,  is  the  great  source  of  variation  in 
Nature,  in  plainer  English,  of  the  variety  of  organisms 
in  the  world.  Now  this  variety,  though  not  the  main 
object  of  sex,  is  precisely  what  it  was  essential  for 
Evolution  by  some  means  to  bring  about.  The  first 
work  of  Evolution  always  is,  as  we  have  seen,  to 
create  a  mass  of  similar  things — atoms,  cells,  men — 
and  the  second  is  to  break  up  that  mass  into  as  many 
different  kinds  of  things  as  possible.  Aggregation 
masses  the  raw  material,  collects  the  clay  for  the  pot- 
ter; differentiation  destroys  the  featureless  monotonies 
as  fast  as  they  are  formed,  and  gives  them  back  in 
new  and  varied  forms.  Now  if  Evolution  designed, 
among  other  things,  to  undertake  the  differentiation  of 
Mankind,  it  could  not  have  done  it  more  effectively 
than  through  the  device  of  sex.  To  the  blending,  or  to 
the  mosaics,  of  the  different  characteristics  of  father 
and  mother,  and  of  many  j)revious  fathers  and 
mothers,  under  the  subtle  wand  of  heredity,  all  the 
varied  interests  of  the  human  world  is  due.  When 
one  considers  the  passing  on,  not  so  much  of  minute 
details  of  character  and  disposition,  but  of  the  domi- 
1  Biological  Memoirs,  p.  281. 


THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS.     251 


naiit  temperament  and  type,  the  new  proportion  in 
which  already  inextricably  mingled  tendencies  are  re- 
arranged, and  the  changed  environment  in  which, 
with  each  new  generation,  they  mnst  unfold ;  it  is 
seen  how  perfect  an  instrument  for  variegating 
humanity  lies  here.  Had  sex  done  nothing  more  than 
make  an  interesting  world,  the  debt  of  Evolution  to 
Reproduction  had  been  incalculable. 

THE  ETHICAL  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  MATERNITY. 

But  let  us  not  be  diverted  from  the  main  stream  by 
these  secondary  results  of  the  sex-distinction.  A  far 
more  important  implication  lies  before  us.  The  prob- 
lem that  remains  for  us  to  settle  is  as  to  how  the 
merely  physical  forms  of  Other-ism  began  to  be 
accompanied  or  overlaid  by  ethical  characters.  And 
the  solution  of  this  problem  requires  nothing  more 
than  a  consideration  of  the  broad  and  fundamental 
fact  of  sex  itself.  In  what  it  is,  and  in  what  it  neces- 
sarily implies,  we  shall  find  the  clue  to  the  beginnings 
of  the  social  and  moral  order  of  the  world.  For,  rising 
on  the  one  hand  out  of  maleness  and  on  the  other  hand 
out  of  femaleness,  developments  take  place  of  such  a 
kind  as  to  constitute  this  the  turning-point  of  the 
world's  moral  history.  Let  it  be  said  at  once  that 
these  developments  are  not  to  be  sought  for  in  the 
directif)n  in  which,  from  the  natui-e  of  the  factors,  one 
might  hastily  suppose  that  they  lay.  What  seems  to 
be  innninent  at  this  stage,  and  as  the  natural  end  to 
which  all  has  led  up,  is  the  institution  of  affection  in 
definite  forms  between  male  and  female.  But  we  are 
on  a  very   different   track.     Affection  between   male 


252      THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS. 


and  female  is  a  later,  less  fundamental,  and,  in  its 
beginnings,  less  essential  growth ;  and  long  prior  to 
its  existence,  and  largely  the  condition  of  it,  is  the 
even  more  beautiful  development  Avhose  progress  we 
have  now  to  trace.  The  basis  of  this  new  develop- 
ment is  indeed  far  removed  from  the  mutual  relations 
ot  sex  Avith  sex.  For  it  lies  in  maleness  and  female- 
ness  themselves,  in  their  inmost  quality  and  essen- 
tial nature,  iu  what  they  lead  to  and  what  they  be- 
come. The  superstructure,  certainly,  owes  much  to 
the  psychical  relations  of  father  and  mother,  husband 
and  wife,  but  the  Evolution  of  Love  began  ages  before 
these  were  established 

What  exactly  maleness  is,  and  what  femaleness, 
has  been  one  of  the  problems  of  the  world.  At  least 
five  hundred  theories  of  their  origin  are  already  in  the 
field,  but  the  solution  seems  to  have  baffled  every 
approach.  Sex  has  remained  almost  to  the  present 
hour  an  ultimate  mystery  of  creation,  and  men  seem 
to  know  as  little  what  it  is  as  whence  it  came.  But 
among  the  last  words  of  modern  science  there  are  one 
or  two  which  spell  out  a  jjartial  clue  to  both  of  these 
mysterious  problems.  The  method  by  which  this  has 
been  reached  is  almost  for  the  first  time  a  purely 
biological  one,  and  if  its  inferences  are  still  uncertain, 
it  has  at  least  established  some  important  facts. 

Starting  with  the  function  of  nutrition  as  the  nearest 
ally  of  Reproduction,  the  newer  experimenters  have 
discovered  cases  in  which  sex  apparently  has  been  de- 
termined by  the  quantity  and  quality  of  the  food-sup- 
ply. And  iu  actual  practice  it  has  been  found  possible, 
in  the  case  of  certain  organisms,  to  produce  either 
maleness  or  femaleness  by  simply  varying  their  nutri- 


THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS.     253 

tion — femaleness  being  an  accompaniment  of  abundant 
food,  maleness  of  tlie  reverse.  When  Yung,  to  take 
an  authentic  experiment,  began  his  observations  on 
tadpoles,  he  ascertained  that  in  tlie  ordinary  natural 
condition  the  number  of  males  and  females  produced 
was  not  far  from  equal — the  percentage  being  about 
57  female  to  43  male,  thus  giving  the  females  a  pre- 
ponderance of  seven.  But  when  a  brood  of  tadpoles 
was  sumptuously  fed  the  percentage  of  females  rose  to 
78,  and  when  a  second  brood  was  treated  even  more 
liberally,  the  number  amounted  to  81.  In  a  tliird 
experiment  with  a  still  more  highly  nutritious  diet, 
the  result  of  the  high  feeding  was  more  remarkable, 
for  in  this  case  92  females  were  produced  and  only  8 
males.  In  the  case  of  buttei-flies  and  moths,  it  has 
been  found  that  if  caterpillars  are  starved  before  en- 
tering the  chrysalis  state  the  offspring  are  males, 
while  others  of  the  same  brood,  when  highly  nourished, 
develop  into  females.  A  still  more  instructive  case 
is  that  of  the  aphides,  the  familiar  plant-lice  of  our 
gardens.  Dui'ing  the  warmth  of  summer,  when  food 
is  abundant,  these  insects  produce  parthenogenetically 
nothing  l)ut  females,  while  in  tlie  famines  of  later 
autunni  tliey  give  Ijirth  to  males.  In  striking  confir- 
mation of  tins  fact  it  has  been  proved  that  in  a  con- 
servatory where  the  aphides  enjoy  perpetual  summer, 
the  parthenogenetic  succession  of  females  continued 
to  go  on  for  four  years  and  stopped  only  when  the 
temperature  was  lowered  and  food  diminished.  Then 
males  were  at  once  produced.'  It  will  no  longer  be 
said  that  science  is  making  no  [irogress  with  this 
unique  problem  when  it  is  apparently  able  to  deter- 
■  The  Erohition  of  Sr.r.  py.  41-4fi. 


254     THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS. 

mine  sex  by  turning  off  or  on  the  steam  in  a  green- 
house. With  regard  to  bees  the  relation  between 
nutrition  and  sex  seems  equally  established.  "  The 
three  kinds  of  inmates  in  a  bee-hive  are  known  to 
every  one  as  queens,  workers,  and  drones ;  or,  as  fertile 
females,  imperfect  females,  and  males.  What  are  the 
factors  determining  the  differences  between  these  three 
forms?  In  the  first  place,  it  is  believed  that  the  eggs 
Avhich  give  rise  to  drones  are  not  fertilized,  while  those 
that  develop  into  queens  and  workers  have,  the  normal 
history.  But  what  fate  rules  the  destiny  of  the  two 
latter,  determining  whether  a  given  ovum  will  turn  out 
the  possible  mother  of  a  new  generation,  or  remain  at 
the  lower  level  of  a  non-fertile  working  female  ?  It 
seems  certain  that  the  fate  mainly  lies  in  the  quantity 
and  quality  of  the  food.  Royal  diet,  and  plenty  of  it, 
develops  the  future  queens.  .  .  .  Up  to  a  certain  point 
the  nurse  bees  can  determine  the  future  destiny  of 
their  charge  by  changing  the  diet,  and  this  in  some 
cases  is  certainly  done.  If  a  larva  on  the  way  to  be- 
come a  worker  receive  by  chance  some  ci'umbs  from 
the  royal  superfluity,  the  reproductive  function  may 
develop,  and  what  are  called  '  fertile  workers,'  to  a 
certain  degree  above  the  average  abortiveness,  result ; 
or,  by  direct  intention,  a  worker  grub  may  be  reared 
into  a  queen  bee."  ^ 

It  is  unnecessary  to  prolong  the  illustration,  for  the 
l)r)int  it  is  wished  to  emphasize  is  all  but  in  sight.  As 
we  have  just  witnessed,  the  tendency  of  abundant 
nutrition  is  to  produce  females,  while  defective  nutri- 
tive conditions  produce  males.  This  means  tliat  in  so 
far  as  nutrition  re-acts  on  the  bodies  of  animals — and 
*  TheEvolution  of  Scr,  p.  42.     See  also  pp.  41-40. 


TUE  STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS.     255 

nothing  does  so  more — there  will  be  a  grov\^ing  dif- 
ference, as  time  begins  to  accumulate  the  effects,  be- 
tween the  organization  and  life-habit  of  male  and 
female  respectively.  In  the  male,  destructive  processes, 
a  preponderance  of  waste  over  repair,  will  prevail;  the 
result  will  be  a  katabolic  habit  of  body  ;  in  the  female 
the  constructive  processes  will  be  in  the  ascendant, 
occasioning  an  opposite  or  anabolic  habit.  Translated 
into  less  technical  language,  this  means  that  the  pre- 
dominating note  in  the  male  will  be  energy,  motion, 
activity  ;  while  passivity,  gentleness,  repose,  will  char- 
acterize the  female.  These  words,  let  it  be  noticed, 
psychical  though  they  seem,  are  yet  here  the  coinages 
of  physiology.  ,  No  other  terms  indeed  would  describe 
the  difference.  Thus  Geddes  and  Thomson :  "  The 
female  cochineal  insect,  laden  with  reserve-products  in 
the  form  of  the  well-known  pigment,  spends  much  of 
its  life  like  a  mere  quiescent  gall  on  the  cactus  plant. 
The  male,  on  the  other  hand,  in  his  adult  state,  is 
agile,  restless,  and  short-lived.  Now  this  is  no  mere 
curiosity  of  the  entomologist,  but  in  reality  a  vivid 
emblem  of  what  is  an  average  truth  thrf)Ugliout  the 
world  of  animals — the  preponderating  passivity  of  the 
females,  the  freedomness  and  activity  of  the  males." 
Rolph's  words,  because  he  writes  neither  of  men  nor 
of  animals,  but  goes  back  to  the  furthest  recess  of 
Nature  and  characterizes  the  cell  itself,  are  still  more 
significant  :  "  The  less  nutritive  and  therefore  smaller, 
hungrier,  and  more  mobile  organism  is  the  male  ; 
the  more  nutritive  and  usuall}^  more  quiescent  is  the 
female." 

Now  what  do  these  facts  indicate?    They  indicate 
that  maleness  is  one  thing  and  femaleness  another, 


256     THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS. 


and  that  each  has  been  specialized  from  the  beginning 
to  play  a  separate  role  in  the  drama  of  life.  Among 
primitive  peoples,  as  largely  in  modern  times,  "The 
tasks  which  demand  a  powerful  development  of 
muscle  and  bone,  and  the  resulting  capacity  for  inter- 
mittent spurts  of  energy,  involving  corresponding 
periods  of  rest,  fall  to  the  man ;  the  care  of  the  chil- 
dren and  all  the  various  industries  which  radiate  from 
the  hearth,  and  which  call  for  an  expenditure  of 
energy  more  continuous,  but  at  a  lower  tension,  fall 
to  the  woman."  ^  Whether  this  or  any  theory  of  the 
origin  of  Sex  be  proved  or  unproved,  the  fact  remains, 
and  is  everywhere  emphasized  in  Nature,  that  a  cer- 
tain constitutional  diflt'erence  exists  between  male  and 
female,  a  difference  inclining  the  one  to  a  robuster 
life  and  implanting  in  the  other  a  certain  mysterious 
bias  in  the  direction  of  what  one  can  only  call  the 
womanly  disposition. 

On  one  side  of  the  great  line  of  cleavage  have  grown 
up  men — those  whose  lives  for  generations  and  gener- 
ations have  been  busied  with  one  particular  set  of 
occupations ;  on  the  other  side  have  lived  and  devel- 
oped women — those  who  for  generations  have  been 
busied  with  another  and  a  widely  different  set  of 
occupations.  And  as  occupations  have  inevitable 
reactions  upon  mind,  character,  and  disposition,  these 
two  have  slowly  become  different  in  mind  and  char- 
acter and  disposition.  That  cleavage,  therefore,  which 
began  in  tbe  merely  physical  region,  is  now  seen  to 
extend  into  the  psychical  realm,  and  ends  by  supply- 
ing the  world  with  two  gi-eat  and  forever  separate 
types.     No  efforts,  or  explanations,  or  expostulations 

'  Havolo'^k  EIHp,  ^^n)^  anrj  Wnmrw,  p.  2. 


THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS.     257 

can  ever  break  down  that  distinction  between  male- 
ness  and  femaleness,  or  make  it  possible  to  believe 
that  they  were  not  destined  from  the  first  of  time  to 
play  a  different  part  in  human  history.  Male  and 
female  never  have  been  and  never  will  be  the  same. 
They  are  different  in  origin  ;  they  have  travelled  to 
their  destinations  by  different  routes ;  they  have  had 
different  ends  in  view.  The  result  is  that  they  are 
different,  and  the  conti'ibution  tlierefore  of  each  to  the 
evolution  of  the  human  race  is  special  and  unique. 
By  and  bye  it  Avill  be  our  duty  to  mark  what  Man,  in 
virtue  of  his  peculiar  gift,  has  done  for  the  world; 
part  indeed  of  his  contribution  has  been  already  re- 
corded here.  To  him  has  been  mainly  assigned  the 
fulfilment  of  the  first  great  function — the  Struggle  for 
Life.  Woman,  whose  higher  contribution  has  not  yet 
been  named,  is  the  chosen  instrument  for  carrying  on 
the  Sti'uggle  for  the  Life  of  Others.  JNIan's  life,  on 
the  Avhole,  is  determined  chiefly  by  the  function  of 
Nutrition  ;  Woman's  by  the  function  of  Keproduction. 
Man  satisfies  the  one  by  going  out  into  the  world,  and 
in  the  rivalries  of  vv'ar  and  the  ardors  of  the  chase,  in 
conflict  with  Natui-e,  and  amid  the  stress  of  industrial 
pursuits,  fulfilling  the  law  of  Self-preservation ; 
Woman  completes  her  destiny  by  occupying  herself 
with  the  industries  and  sanctities  of  the  home,  and 
paying  the  debt  of  Motherhood  to  her  race. 

Now  out  of  this  initial  difference — so  slight  at  first 
as  to  amount  to  no  more  than  a  scarcely  perceptible 
bias — have  sprung  the  most  momentous  issues.  For 
by  every  detail  of  their  separate  careers  the  two 
original  tendencies — to  outward  activity  in  the  man ; 
to  inward  activity,  miscalled  passivitv,  in  the  woman 
17 


258     THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS. 


— became  accentuated  as  time  went  on.  The  one  life 
tended  towards  selfishness,  the  other  towards  unself- 
ishness. While  one  kept  Individualism  alive,  the 
other  kept  Altruism  alive.  Blended  in  the  children, 
these  two  master-principles  from  this  their  starting- 
point  acted  and  re-acted  all  through  history,  seeking 
that  mean  in  which  true  life  lies.  Thus  by  a  Division 
of  Labor  appointed  by  the  will  of  Nature,  the  condi- 
tions for  the  Ascent  of  Mitn  M'ere  laid. 

But  by  far  the  most  vital  point  remains.  For  we 
have  next  to  observe  how  this  bears  directly  on  the 
theme  we  set  out  to  explore — the  Evolution  of  Love. 
The  passage  from  mere  Other-ism,  in  the  physiological 
sense,  to  Altruism  in  the  moral  sense,  occurs  in  con- 
nection with  the  due  performance  of  her  natural 
task  by  her  to  whom  the  Struggle  for  the  Life  of 
Others  is  assigned.  Tliat  task,  translated  into  one 
great  word,  is  Maternity — which  is  nothing  but  the 
Struggle  for  the  Life  of  Others  transfigured,  trans- 
ferred to  the  moral  sphere.  Focused  in  a  single 
human  being,  this  function,  as  we  rise  in  history, 
slowly  begins  to  be  accompanied  by  those  heaven-born 
psychical  states  which  transform  the  femaleness  of 
the  older  order  into  the  Motherhood  of  the  new. 
When  one  follows  Maternity  out  of  the  depths  of 
lower  Nature,  and  beholds  it  ripening  in  quality  as  it 
reaches  the  human  sphere,  its  character,  and  the  char- 
acter of  the  processes  by  which  it  is  evolved,  appear 
in  their  full  divinity.  For  of  what  is  Maternity  the 
mother  ?  Of  children  ?  No ;  for  these  are  the  mere 
vehicle  of  its  spiritual  manifestation.  Of  affection 
between  female  and  male  ?  No ;  for  that,  contrary  to 
accepted  beliefs,  has  little  to  do  in  the  first  instance 


THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS.     259 

with  sex-relations.  Of  what  then  ?  Of  Love  itself,  of 
Love  as  Love,  of  Love  as  Life,  of  Love  as  Humanity, 
of  Love  as  the  pure  and  undeflled  fountain  of  all  that 
is  eternal  in  the  world.  In  the  long-  stillness  which 
follows  the  crisis  of  Maternity,  witnessed  only  by  the 
new  and  helpless  life  which  is  at  once  the  last  expres- 
sion of  the  older  function  and  the  unconscious  vehicle 
of  the  new,  Humanity  is  born.  By  an  alchemy  which 
remains,  and  must  ever  remain,  the  secret  of  Nature, 
the  physiological  forces  give  place  to  those  higher 
principles  of  sympathy,  solicitude,  and  affection  which 
from  this  time  onwards  are  to  change  the  course  of 
Evolution  and  determine  a  diviner  desLiuy  for  a 
Plum  an  Race : 

"Eartli's  insufficiency 
Here  grows  to  event; 
The  indescribable 
Here  it  is  done ; 
The  woman-soul  leadeth  us 
Upward  and  on."  ^ 

So  stupendous  is  this  transition  that  the  mere  possi- 
bility staggers  us.  Separated  by  the  whole  diameter 
of  conscious  intelligence  and  will,  what  possible  aflQn- 
ities  can  exist  between  the  Reproductive  and  the 
Altruistic  process?  What  analogy  can  ever  exist 
between  the  earlier  physiological  Struggle  for  the  Life 
of  Others  and  the  later  Struggle  of  Love  ?  Yet,  dif- 
ferent though  their  accompaniments  may  be,  when 
closely  examined  they  are  seen,  at  every  essential 
point,  running  parallel  with  each  other.  The  object 
in  either  case  is  to  continue  the  life  of  the  Species; 
1  Faust,  Pt.  n.  Bayard  Taylor's  tr. 


260     THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS. 

the  essence  of  Ijoth  is  self-sacrifice  ;  the  first  manifest- 
ation of  the  sacrifice  is  to  malce  provision  for  Otliers 
by  helping  them  to  draw  the  first  few  breaths  of  life. 
But  what  has  Love  to  do  with  Species  ?  Can  Altru- 
ism have  reference  to  mere  life  ?  The  answer  is,  that 
in  its  first  beginnings  it  has  almost  nothing  to  do 
witli  anything  else.  For,  consider  the  situation.  Re- 
production, let  us  suppose,  has  done  its  most  perfect 
work  on  the  physiological  plane :  the  result  is  that  a 
human  child  is  born  into  the  world.  But  the  work  of 
Reproduction  being  to  Struggle  for  the  Life  of  the 
Species,  its  task  is  only  complete  when  it  secures  that 
the  child,  representing  the  Species,  shall  live.  If  the 
child  dies,  Reproduction  has  failed;  the  Species,  so 
far  as  this  effort  is  concerned,  comes  to  an  end.  Now, 
can  Reproduction  as  a  merely  physiological  function 
complete  this  process  ?  It  cannot.  What  can  ? 
Only  the  Mother's  Care  and  Love.  Without  these, 
in  a  few  hours  or  days,  the  new  life  must  perish  ;  the 
earlier  achievement  of  Reproduction  is  in  vain. 
Hence  there  comes  a  moment  when  these  two  func- 
tions meet,  when  they  act  as  complements  to  each 
other ;  when  Physiology  hands  over  its  unfinished 
task  to  Ethics;  when  Evolution— if  for  once  one  may 
use  a  false  distinction — depends  upon  the  "  moral " 
process  to  complete  the  work  the  "cosmic"  process 
has  begun. 

At  what  precise  stage  of  the  Ascent,  in  association 
with  what  class  of  animals.  Other-ism  began  to  shade 
into  Altruism  in  the  ethical  sense,  is  immaterial. 
Whether  the  Altruism  in  the  early  stages  is  real  or 
apparent,  profound  or  superficial,  voluntary  or  auto- 
matic, does  not  concern  us.     What  concerns  us  is  that 


THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS.     261 

the  Altruism  is  there ;  that  the  day  came  when,  even 
though  a  rudiment,  it  was  a  reality ;  above  all  that 
the  arrangements  fen*  introducing  and  perfecting  it 
were  realities.  The  prototype,  for  ages,  may  have 
extended  only  to  form,  to  the  outward  relation ;  for 
further  ages  no  more  Altruism  may  have  existed  than 
was  absolutely  necessary  to  the  preservation  of  the 
Species.  But  to  fix  the  eye  upon  it  at  that  remote 
stage  and  assert  that,  because  it  was  apparently  then 
automatic,  it  must  therefore  have  been  automatic  ever 
after,  is  to  forget  the  progressive  character  of  Evolu- 
tion as  well  as  to  ignore  facts.  While  many  of  the 
apparent  Other-regarding  acts  among  animals  are 
purely  selfisli  and  purely  automatic,  undoubtedly 
there  are  instances  where  more  is  involved.  Apart 
from  their  own  offspring — in  relation  to  which  there 
may  always  be  the  suspicion  of  automatism ;  and 
apart  from  domestic  animals — which  are  open  to  the 
further  suspicion  of  having  been  trained  to  it — ani- 
mals act  spontaneously  towards  other  animals;  they 
have  their  playmates ;  they  make  friendships  and 
very  attached  friendships.  Much  more,  indeed,  has 
been  claimed  for  them  ;  but  it  is  not  necessary  to 
claim  even  this  much  No  evolutionist  would  expect 
among  animals — domestic  animals  always  excepted — ■ 
any  considerable  development  of  Altruism,  because 
the  physiological  and  psychical  conditions  which  di- 
rectly led  to  its  development  in  Man's  case  were  fulfilled 
in  no  other  creature.' 

'  The  answer  to  the  argument  in  favor  of  autonialism  is  thus 
summarized  by  C.  M.  Williams:  "(1)  That  functions  which  are 
preserved  and  inherited  must  evidently  be,  not  only  in  animals 
and  plants,  but  also  and  equally  in  man,  such  as  favor  the  preser- 


262     THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS. 

Simple  as  seems  tlie  method  by  which  the  first  few 
sparks  of  Love  were  nursed  into  flame  in  the  bosom  of 
Maternitjr,  the  details  of  the  evolution  are  so  intricate 
as  to  require  a  chapter  to  themselves.  But  the 
emphasis  which  Nature  puts  on  this  process  may  be 
judged  of  by  the  fact  that  one-half  the  human  race 
had  to  be  set  apart  to  sustain  and  perfect  it.  To  the 
evolutionist  who  discerns  the  true  proportions  of  the 
forces  which  made  for  the  Ascent  of  Man,  one  of  the 
two  or  three  great  events  in  the  natural  history  of  the 
world  was  the  institution  of  sex.  It  is  here  that  the 
master-forces  which  were  to  dominate  the  latest  and 
highest  stages  of  the  process  start;  here,  specialized 
into  Egoism  and  Altruism,  they  part ;  and  here,  each 
having  run  its  different  course,  they  meet  to  distrib- 
ute their  gains  to  a  succeeding  race.  With  the 
initial  impulses  of  their  sex  strengthened  by  the 
different  life-routine  to  which  each  led,  these  two 
forces  ran  their  course  through  history,  determining 
by  their  ceaseless  reactions  the  order  and  progress  of 

vation  of  the  species  ;  those  wliich  do  not  so  favor  it  must  perish 
witli  the  individuals  or  species  to  which  they  belong  ;  (2)  that  it 
cannot,  indeed,  be  assumed  that  a  result  which  has  never  come 
within  the  experience  of  the  species  can  be  willed  as  an  end,  al- 
tliough,  with  the  species,  function  securing  results  which,  from  a 
human  point  of  view,  might  be  regarded  as  such,  may  be  pre- 
served; but  (3)  that,  as  far  as  we  assume  the  existence  of  con- 
sciousness at  all  in  any  species  or  individual,  we  must  assume 
pleasure  and  pain,  pleasure  in  customary  function,  pain  in  its 
hindrance;  and  (4)  that,  as  far  as  we  can  assume  memory,  Ave 
may  also  feel  authorized  to  assume  that  a  remembered  action 
may  be  associated  with  remembered  results  that  come  within  the 
experience  of  the  animal,  some  phases  of  which  may  tlius  become, 
as  combined  with  pleasure  or  pain,  ends  to  seek  or  consequences 
to  avoid." — Evolutional  Ethics,  p.  386. 


THE  STRUGGLE  FOIl  THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS.     263 

the  world,  or  when  wrongly  balanced,  its  disorder  and 
decay.  According  to  evolutional  philosophy  there  are 
three  great  marks  or  necessities  of  all  true  develop- 
ment— Aggregation,  or  the  massing  of  things ;  Differ- 
entiation, or  tlie  varying  of  things ;  and  Integration, 
or  the  re-uniting  of  things  into  higher  wholes.  All 
these  processes  are  brought  about  by  sex  more  per- 
fectly than  by  any  other  factor  known.  From  a  care- 
ful study  of  this  one  phenomenon,  science  could 
almost  decide  that  Progress  was  the  object  of  Nature, 
and  that  Altruism  was  the  object  of  Progress. 

This  vital  relation  between  Altruism  ni  its  early 
stages  and  physiological  ends,  neither  implies  that  it 
is  to  be  limited  by  these  ends  nor  defined  in  terms  of 
them.  Everything  must  begin  somewhere.  And 
there  is  no  aphorism  which  the  labors  of  Evolution,  at 
each  fresh  beginning,  have  tended  more  consistently 
to  endorse  than  "  first  that  which  is  natural,  then  that 
whicli  is  spiritual.''  IIow  this  great  saying  also  dis- 
poses of  the  difficulty,  which  appears  and  reappears 
with  every  forward  step  in  Evolution,  as  to  the  quali- 
tative terms  in  which  higher  developments  are  to  be 
judged,  is  plain.  Because  the  spiritual  to  our  vision 
emerges  from  the  natural,  or,  to  speak  more  accu- 
rately, is  convoyed  upwards  by  the  natural  for  the 
first  stretches  of  its  ascent,  it  is  not  necessarily  con- 
tained in  that  natural,  nor  is  it  to  be  defined  in  tei'ms 
of  it.  What  comes  "first"  is  not  the  criterion  of  what 
comes  last.  Few  things  are  more  forgotten  in  criti- 
cism of  Evolution  than  tliat  the  nature  of  a  thing  is 
not  dependent  on  its  origin,  tliat  one's  whole  view  of 
a  long,  growing,  and  culminating  process  is  not  to  be 
governed  by  the  first  sight  the  microscope  can  catch 


264     THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS. 

of  it.  The  processes  of  Evolution  evolve  as  well  us 
the  products  ;  evolve  Avith  the  products.  In  the 
Environments  they  help  to  create,  or  to  make  avail- 
able, they  lind  a  field  for  new  creations  as  well  as 
further  reinforcements  for  themselves.  With  the 
creation  of  human  children  Altruism  found  an  area 
for  its  own  expansion  such  as  had  never  before  existed 
in  the  world.  In  this  new  soil  it  grew  from  more  to 
more,  and  reached  a  potentiality  which  enabled  it  to 
burst  the  trammels  of  physical  conditions,  and  over- 
flow the  world  as  a  moral  force.  The  mere  fact  that 
the  first  uses  of  Love  were  physical  shows  how  per- 
fectly this  process  bears  the  stamp  of  Evolution.  The 
later  function  is  seen  to  relieve  the  earlier  at  the 
moment  when  it  would  break  down  without  it,  and 
continue  the  ascent  without  a  pause. 

If  it  be  hinted  that  Nature  has  succeeded  in 
continuhig  the  Ascent  of  Life  in  Animals  without 
any  reinforcement  from  psychical  principles,  the 
first  answer  is  that  owing  to  physiological  con- 
ditions this  would  not  have  been  possible  in  the  case 
of  Man.  But  even  among  animals  it  is  not  true  that 
Reproduction  completes  its  work  apart  from  higher 
■principles,  for  even  there,  there  are  accompaniments, 
continually  increasing  in  definitejiess,  Avhich  at  least 
represent  the  instincts  and  emotions  of  ]\Ian.  It  is  no 
doubt  true  that  in  animals  the  affections  are  less 
voluntarily  directed  than  in  the  case  of  a  human 
mother.  But  in  either  case  they  must  have  been 
involuntary  at  first.  It  can  only  have  been  at  a  Lite 
stage  in  Evolution  that  Nature  could  trust  even  her 
highest  product  to  carry  on  the  process  by  herself. 
Before  Altruism   was   strong   enough   to  take  its  own 


THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  TUE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS.     265 

initiative,  necessity  had  to  be  laid  upon  all  mothers, 
animal  and  human,  to  act  in  the  way  required.  In 
part  physiological,  this  necessity  was  brought  about 
under  the  ordinary  action  of  that  principle  which  had 
to  take  charge  of  everything  in  Nature  until  the  will  of 
Man  appeared — Natural  Selection.  A  mother  who  did 
not  care  for  her  children  would  have  feeble  and  sickly 
children.  Their  children's  children  would  be  feeble 
and  sickly  children.  And  the  day  of  reckoning  would 
come  when  they  would  be  driven  off  the  field  by  a 
hardier,  that  is  a  better-mothered,  race.  Hence  the 
premium  of  Nature  upon  better  mothers.  Hence  the 
elimination  of  all  the  reproductive  failures,  of  all  the 
mothers  who  fell  short  of  completing  the  process  to  the 
last  detail.  And  hence,  by  the  law  of  the  Survival  of 
the  Fittest,  Altruism,  which  at  this  stage  means  good- 
motherism,  is  forced  upon   the  world 

This  consummation  reached,  the  foundations  of  the 
human  world  are  finished.  Nothing  foreign  remains 
to  be  added.  All  that  need  happen  henceforth  is  that 
the  Struggle  for  the  Life  of  Others  should  work  out  its 
destiny.  To  follow  out  the  gains  of  Reproduction  from 
this  point  would  be  to  write  the  story  of  the  nations, 
the  history  of  civilization,  the  progress  of  Social  Evolu- 
tion. The  key  to  all  these  processes  is  here.  There 
is  no  intelligible  account  of  the  world  which  is  not 
founded  on  the  realization  of  the  place  of  this  factor 
in  development.  Sociology,  practically,  can  only  beat 
the  air,  can  make  no  step  forward  as  a  science,  until  it 
recognizes  this  basis  hi  biology.  It  is  the  failure,  not 
so  nuich  to  recognize  the  supremacy  of  this  second 
factor,  but  to  see  that  there  is  any  second  factor 
at    all,   that   has   vitiated  almost  every   attempt   to 


2(i6     THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  OTHERS. 

construct  a  symmetrical  social  philosophy.  It  has 
long,  indeed,  been  perceived  that  society  is  an  organ- 
ism, and  an  organism  which  has  grown  by  natural 
growth  like  a  tree.  But  the  tree  to  which  it  is 
usually  likened  is  such  a  tree  as  never  grew  on  this 
earth.  For  it  is  a  tree  without  flowers ;  a  tree  with 
nothing  but  stem  and  leaves ;  a  tree  that  performed 
the  function  of  Nutrition,  and  forgot  all  about  Repro- 
duction. The  great  unrecognized  truth  of  social 
science  is  that  the  Social  Organism  has  grown  and 
flowered  and  fruited  in  virtue  of  the  continuous  activ- 
ities and  inter-relations  of  the  two  co-related  functions 
of  Nutrition  and  Reproduction,  that  these  two  domi- 
nants being  at  work  it  could  not  but  grow,  and  grow  in 
the  way  it  has  grown.  When  the  dual  nature  of  the 
evolving  forces  is  perceived ;  when  their  reactions 
upon  one  another  are  understood ;  when  the  changed 
material  with  which  they  have  to  work  from  time  to 
time,  the  further  obstacles  confronting  them  at  every 
stage,  the  new  Environments  which  modify  their 
action  as  the  centuries  add  their  growths  and  disen- 
cumber them  of  their  withered  leaves, — when  all  this 
is  observed,  the  whole  social  order  falls  into  line. 
From  the  dawn  of  life  these  two  forces  have  acted 
together,  one  continually  separating,  the  other  contin- 
ually uniting ;  one  continually  looking  to  its  own 
things,  the  other  to  the  things  of  Others.  Both  are 
great  in  Nature — but  "  the  greatest  of  these  is  Love." 


CHAPTER  VIIL 

THE  EVOLUTION  OF  A  MOTHER. 

The  Evolution  of  a  Mother,  in  spite  of  its  half- 
humorous,  half-sacrilegious  sound,  is  a  serious  study 
in  Biology.  Even  on  its  physical  side  this  M-as  the 
most  stupendous  task  Evolution  ever  undertook.  It 
began  when  the  first  bud  burst  from  the  first  plant- 
cell,  and  was  only  completed  when  the  last  and  most 
elaborately  wrought  pinnacle  of  the  temple  of  Nature 
crowned  the  animal  creation. 

What  was  that  pinnacle?  There  is  no  more  in- 
structive question  in  science.  For  the  answer  brings 
into  relief  one  of  tlie  expression-points  of  Nature — one 
of  these  great  teleological  notes  of  which  the  natural 
order  is  so  full,  and  of  which  this  is  by  far  the  most 
impressive.  Run  the  eye  for  a  moment  up  the  scale 
of  animal  life.  At  the  bottom  are  the  first  animals, 
the  Protozoa.  The  Coelenterata  follow,  then  in  mixed 
array,  the  Echinoderms,  Worm's,  and  Molluscs.  Above 
tliese  come  the  Pisces,  then  the  Amphibia,  then  the 
Reptilia,  then  the  Aves,  then — What?  The  Mam- 
malia, The  Mothkks.  There  the  series  stops. 
Nature  has  never  made  anything  since. 

Is  it  too  much  to  say  that  the  one  motive  of  organio 

267 


268  THE  EVOLUTION  OF  A  MOTHER. 

Nature  was  to  make  Mothers  ?  It  is  at  least  certain 
that  this  was  the  chief  thing  she  did.  Ask  the 
Zoologist  M'hat,  judging  from  science  alone,  Nature 
aspired  to  fi-om  the  first,  he  could  hut  answer  INIam- 
malia — ^Mothers.  In  as  real  a  sense  as  a  factory- 
is  meant  to  turn  out  locomotives  or  clocks,  the 
machinery  of  Nature  is  designed  in  the  last  resort  to 
turn  out  Mothers.  You  will  find  IMothers  in  lower 
nature  at  every  stage  of  imperfection  ;  you  will 
see  attempts  being  made  to  get  at  better  types; 
you  find  old  ideas  abandoned  and  higher  models 
coming  to  the  front.  And  when  you  get  to  the 
top  you  find  the  last  great  act  was  but  to  present  to 
the  world  a  physiologically  perfect  type.  It  is  a  fact 
■which  no  human  Mother  can  regard  without  awe, 
which  no  man  can  realize  without  a  new  reverence  for 
woman  and  a  new  belief  in  the  higher  meaning  of 
Nature,  that  the  goal  of  the  whole  plant  and  animal 
kingdoms  seems  to  have  been  the  creation  of  a  family, 
which  the  very  naturalist  has  had  to  call  Mammalia. 

That  care  for  others,  from  which  the  Mammalia 
take  their  name,  though  reaching  its  highest  expres- 
sion there,  is  introduced  into  Nature  in  cruder  forms 
almost  from  the  dawn  of  life.  In  the  vcfjetable  king-- 
dom,  from  the  motherlessness  of  the  early  Crypto- 
gams, we  rise  to  find  a  first  maternity  foreshadowed 
in  the  flowering  tree.  It  elaborates  a  seed  or  nut  or 
fruit  with  infinite  precaution,  surrounding  the  embryo 
with  coat  after  coat  of  protective  substance,  and  stor- 
ing around  it  the  richest  foods  for  its  future  use. 
And  rudimentary  though  the  manifestation  be,  when 
we  remember  that  this  is  not  an  incident  in  the  tree's 
life  but  its  whole  blossom  and  crown,  it  is  impossible 


TUE  EVOLUTION  OF  A  MOTHER.  2G9 

but  to  think  of  this  solicitude  and  Motherliood  to- 
gether. So  exalted  in  the  tree's  life  is  tliis  provision 
for  others  that  the  Botanist,  like  the  Zoologist^  places 
"^le  mothering  plants  at  the  top  of  his  department  of 
Nature.  His  highest  division  is  the  Phanerofjams 
— named,  literally,  in  terms  of  their  reproductive 
specialization. 

Crossing  into  the  animal  kingdom  we  obsei-ve  the 
same  motherless  beginning,  the  same  cared-for  end. 
All  elementary  animals  are  orphans;  they  know 
neither  home  nor  care ;  the  earth  is  their  onl}'  mother 
or  the  inhospitable  sea;  they  waken  to  isolation,  to 
apathy,  to  the  attentions  only  of  those  who  seek  their 
doom.  But  as  we  draw  nearer  the  apex  of  the  animal 
kingdom,  the  spectacle  of  a  protective  Maternity 
looms  into  view.  At  what  precise  point  it  begins  it 
is  difficult  to  say.  But  that  it  does  not  begin  at  once, 
that  there  is  a  long  and  gradual  Evolution  of  Mater- 
nity, is  clear.  From  casual  observation,  and  from  pop- 
ular books,  it  might  be  inferred  that  care  of  offspring 
— we  cannot  yet  speak  of  affection— is  characteristic 
of  the  whole  field  of  Nature.  On  the  contrary,  it  is 
doubtful  whether  in  the  Invertebrate  half  of  Nature  it 
exists  at  all.  If  it  does  it  is  very  rare;  and  in  the 
Vertebrates  it  is  met  with  only  exceptionally  till  we 
reach  the  two  highest  classes.';  What  does  exist,  and 
sometimes  in  marvellous  perfection,  is  care  for  eggs; 
but  that  is  a  wholly  different  thing,  both  in  its  phys- 
ical and  psychical  aspect,  from  love  of  offspring.  The 
truth  is  Nature  so  made  animals  in  tlu;  early  days 
that  they  did  not  need  Mothers.  The  luoment  they 
were  born  they  looked  after  themselves,  and  were  per- 
fectly able  to  look  after  themselves.     Mothers  in  these 


270  THE  EVOLUriON  OF  A  MOTHER. 

days  would  have  been  a  superfluity.  All  that  Nature 
worked  at  at  that  dawning  date  was  Maternity  in  a 
physical  sense — Motherhood  came  as  a  later  and  a 
rarer  growth.  The  children  of  those  days  were  not 
really  children  at  all  ;  they  were  only  offspring, 
springers  off,  deserters  fronr  home.  At  one  bound 
they  were  out  into  life  on  their  own  account,  and  she 
who  begat  them  knew  thera  no  more.  [That  early 
world,  therefore,  for  millions  and  millions  of  years  was 
a  bleak  and  loveless  world.  It  was  a  world  without 
children  and  a  world  without  Mothers?)  It  is  good  to 
realize  liow  heartless  Nature  was  till  these  arrived. 

In  the  lower  reaches  of  Nature,  things  remain  still 
unchanged.  Tlie  rule  is  not  that  the  Mother  ignores, 
but  that  she  never  sees  her  child.  The  land-crabs  of 
the  West  Indies  descend  from  their  homes  in  the 
mountains  once  a  year,  march  in  procession  to  the 
sea,  commit  their  eggs  to  the  waves,  and  come  away. 
The  burying-beetles  deposit  their  fragile  capsules,  in 
the  dead  carcase  of  a  mouse  or  bird,  plant  all  together 
in  the  earth,  and  leave  them  to  their  fate.  Myriads  of 
other  creatures  are  born  into  the  world,  and  ordained 
so  to  be  born,  whose  Mothers  are  dead  before  they 
begin  to  live.  The  moment  of  birth  with  the  Epheni- 
eridse  is  also  the  moment  of  death.  These  are  not 
cases  nevertheless  where  there  has  been  no  care.  On 
the  contrary,  there  is  a  solicitude  for  the  egg  of  tlie 
most  extreme  kind — for  its  being  placed  exactly  in 
the  right  spot,  at  the  right  time,  protected  from  the 
weather,  shielded  from  enemies,  and  provided  with  a 
first  supply  of  food.  The  butterfly  places  the  eggs  of 
its  young  on  the  very  leaf  which  the  coming  cater- 
pillar likes  the  most,  and  on  the  under  side  of  the  leaf 


THE  EVOLU  riON  OF  A  MO  TIIER.  271 

where  they  will  be  least  exposed — a  case  which  illus- 
trates in  a  palpable  Avay  the  essential  difference 
between  ]Motherhood  and  Maternity.  JMaternity  here, 
in  the  restricted  sense  of  merely  adequate  jDhysical 
care,  is  carried  to  its  utmost  perfection.  Everything 
that  can  be  done  for  the  egg  is  done.  Motherhood, 
on  the  other  hand,  is  non-existent,  is  even  an  anatom- 
ical in^jossibility.  If  a  butterfly  could  live  till  its 
egg  was  hatched — which  does  not  happen — it  would 
see  no  butterfly  come  out  of  tlie  egg,  no  airy  likeness 
of  itself,  but  an  earth-bound  caterpillar.  If  it  rec- 
ognized this  creature  as  its  child,  it  could  never 
play  the  Mother  to  it.  The  anatomical  form  is  so 
different  that  were  it  starving  it  could  not  feed  it, 
were  it  threatened  it  could  not  save  it,  nor  is  it 
possible  to  see  any  direction  in  which  it  could  be 
of  the  slightest  use  to  it.  It  is  obvious  that  Xature 
never  intended  to  make  a  Mother  here;  that  all  that 
she  desired  as  yet  was  to  perfect  the  first  maternal 
instinct.  And  the  tragedy  of  the  situation  is  tliai. 
on  that  day  when  her  training  to  be  a  true  Mother 
should  begin,  she  passes  out  of  the  world. 

But  there  is  another  reason,  in  addition  to  the  pre- 
cocity of  the  offspring,  why  parental  care  is  a  drug  in 
the  market  in  lower  Nature.  There  are  such  multi- 
tudes of  these  ci'eatures  that  it  is  scarcely  worth 
caring  for  them.  The  humbler  denizens  of  the  world 
i)i-oduce  offspring,  not  by  vuuts  or  tens,  but  by  thou- 
sands and  millions ;  and  Avith  po})ulations  so  vast, 
maternal  protection  is  not  required  to  sustain  the  ex- 
istence of  the  species.  It  was  probably  on  the  whole  a 
better  arrangement  to  produce  a  million  and  let  them 
take  their  chance,  than  to  produce  one  and  take  special 


272  THE  EVOLUTION  OF  A  MOTHER. 

trouble  Math  it.     It  was  easier,  moreover,  a  thousand 
times  easier,  for  Nature  to  make  a  million  youug  than 
one  Mother.     But  the  etliical  effect,  if  one  may  use^ 
such  a  term  here,  of  this  early  arrangement  was  nil.^ 
All  tills  saving  of  Motherly  trouble  meant  for  a  long 
space  in  Nature  complete  ateence  of  maternal  train- 
ing.    With  children  of  this  sort.  Motherhood  liad  no 
chance.     There  was  no  time  to  love,  no  opportunity  to 
love,  and  no  object  to  love.     It  was  a  period  of  physi- 
cal installations ;  and  of  psychical  installations  only  as 
establishing  the   first  stages  of  the  maternal  instinct) 
— the  prenatal  care   of  the  egg.     This  is  a  necessary 
beginning,  but  it  is  imperfect ;  it  arrests  itself  at  the 
critical  point — where  care  can  react  upon  the  Mother. 

Now,  before  JMaternal  Love  can  be  evolved  out  of 
tliis  first  care,  before  Love  can  be  made  a  necessity, 
and  carried  past  tlie  unhatched  egg  to  the  living  thing 
which  is  to  come  out  of  it,  Nature  must  alter  all  her 
ways.  Four  great  changes  at  least  nuist  be  introduced 
into  her  programme.  In  the  first  place,  she  must 
cause  fewer  j^oung  to  be  produced  at  a  birth.  In  the 
second  place,  she  must  have  these  young  produced  in 
such  outward  form  that  their  Mothers  will  recognize 
them.  In  the  third  place,  instead  of  producing  them 
in  such  physical  perfection  that  they  are  able  to  go 
out  into  life  the  moment  they  are  born,  she  must 
make  them  helpless,  so  that  for  a  time  they  nmst 
dwell  with  her  if  they  are  to  live  at  all.  And  fourth- 
ly, it  is  required  that  she  shall  be  made  to  dwell  with 
them  ;  that  in  some  way  they  also  should  be  made 
necessary — physically  necessary — to  her  to  compel  her 
to  attend  to  them.  All  these  beautiful  arrangements 
wo  find  carried  out  to  the  last  detail.     A  mother  is 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF  A  MOTHER.  273 

made,  as  it  were,  in  four  processes.     She  requires,  like 
the  making  of  a  colored  picture,  four  separate  paint- 
ings, each  adding  some  new  thing  to  the  effect.     Let\ 
us  note  the  way  in  which  woman — savage  woman —  I 
became  caretaker,  and  watclier,  and  nurse,  and  passed  / 
from   femaleness  to    the   higher  heights   of  Mother-' 
hood. 

The  first  great  change  that  had  to  be  introduced 
into  Xature  was  tlie  diminishing  of  the  number  of 
young  produced  at  a  birth.  As  we  have  seen,  nearly 
all  the  lower  animals  produce  scores,  or  hundreds,  or 
thousands,  or  millions,  at  one  time.  Now,  no  mother 
can  love  a  million.  Clearly,  if  Nature  wishes  to  make 
caretakers,  she  must  moderate  her  demands.  And  so 
she  sets  to  work  to  bring  down  the  numbers,  reducing 
them  steadily  until  so  few  remain  that  Motherhood 
becomes  a  possibility.  How  great  this  change  is  can 
only  be  understood  when  one  realizes  the  almost  in- 
calculable fecundity  of  the  first-created  forms  of  life. 
When  we  examine  the  progeny  of  the  lowest  plants 
we  find  ourselves  among  figures  so  high  that  no  mi- 
croscope can  count  them.  The  Protococcus  Nivalis 
shows  its  exuberant  reproductive  power  by  reddening 
tlie  Arctic  landscape  with  its  offspring  in  a  single 
night.  When  we  break  or  shake  the  Puff-ball  of  the 
well-known  fungus,  the  cloud  of  progeny  darkens  the 
air  with  a  smoke  made  up  of  uncountable  millions  of 
spores.  Ihjdatina  Senta,  one  of  the  Rotifera,  propa- 
gates four  times  in  thirty-four  hours,  and  in  twelve 
days  is  the  parent  of  sixteen  million  young,  Among 
fish  the  number  is  still  very  great.  The  herring  and 
the  cod  give  birth  to  a  million  ova,  the  frog  spawns 
eggs  by  the  thousand,  and  most  of  the  creatures  at 
18 


274  THE  EVOLUTION  OF  A  MOTHER. 

and  below  that  level  in  a  like  degree.  Then  comes  a 
gradual  change.  "When  Ave  pass  on  to  the  Keptiles, 
the  figures  fall  into  hundreds.  On  reaching  the  birds 
the  young  are  to  be  counted  by  tens  or  units.  In  the 
highest  of  Mammals  the  rule  is  one.  This  bringing 
down  of  the  numbers  is  a  remarkable  circumstance. 
It  means  the  calling  in  of  a  diffused  care,  to  focus  it 
upon  one,  and  concentrate  it  into  Love. 

The  next  thing  was  to  make  it  possible  for  the  par- 
ent to  recognize  its  young.  If  it  was  difficult  to  love 
a  million  it  was  impossible  to  love  an  embryo.  In  the 
lower  reaches  the  young  are  never  in  the  smallest 
degree  like  their  parents,  and,  granting  the  highest 
power  of  recognition  to  the  IMother,  it  is  impossible 
that  she  should  recognize  her  own  offspring.  For 
generations  even  Science  was  imposed  upon  here,  for 
many  forms  of  life  were  described  and  classified  as 
distinct  sj^ecies  which  have  turned  out  to  be  simply 
the  young  of  other  species.  It  may  be  useless  to  con- 
trast so  striking  a  case  as  the  ciliated  Planula  with 
the  adult  ^?<r(?/i«— vagaries  of  form  which  for  gen- 
erations deceived  the  naturahst — for  it  is  doubtful 
whether  creatures  of  the  Medusoid  type  have  eyes  ; 
but  in  the  higher  groups,  where  power  of  recognition 
is  more  certain,  the  unlikeness  of  progeny  to  parent  is 
often  as  decided.  The  larval  forms  of  the  Star  fish, 
or  the  Sea  Urchin,  or  their  kinsman  the  Ilolothui'ian 
are  disguised  past  all  recognition  ;  and  among  the 
Insects  the  relation  between  Butterflies  and  JMoths 
and  their  respective  caterpillars  is  beyond  any  possible 
clue.  No  doul)t  there  are  other  modes  of  recognition 
in  Nature  than  those  which  depend  on  the  sense  of 
sight.     But  looked  at  on  every  side,  the  fact  remains 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF  A  MOTHER. 


that  the  power  to  identify  their  young  is  all  but  absent 
until  the  higher  animals  appear. 

The  next  work  of  Nature,  therefore,  was  to  make 
the  young  resemble  the  parent,  to  make,  in  short,  the 
children  presentable  at  birth.  And  the  means  taken 
to  effect  this  are  worth  noting.  Nature  always  nfakes 
her  changes  with  a  marvellous  economy,  and  generally, 
as  in  this  case,  with  a  quite  startling  simplicity.  To 
start  making  a  new  kind  of  embryo,  a  plan  obvious  to 
us,  was  not  thought  of.  That  would  have  been  to 
have  lost  all  the  time  spent  on  them  already.  If 
Nature  begins  a  thing  and  wishes  to  make  a  change, 
she  never  goes  back  to  the  beginning  and  starts  de 
novo.  Her  respect  for  her  own  work  is  profound.  To 
begin  at  the  beginning  again  would  not  only  be  lost 
work,  but  waste  of  future  time ;  and  Evolution,  slow 
as  it  may  seem,  never  fails  to  take  the  quickest  path. 
She  did  not  then  start  making  new  embryos.  She  did 
not  even  touch  up  the  old  embryos.  All  that  she  did 
was  to  keep  them  hidden  till  they  grew  more  present- 
able. She  left  them  exactly  as  they  wer^,  only  she 
drew  a  veil  over  them.  Instead  of  saying  "  Let  us  re- 
create these  little  things,"  she  passed  the  word  "Let  us 
delay  them  till  they  are  fair  to  see."  And  from  the 
day  that  word  was  passed,  the  embryos  were  hindered 
in  the  eggs,  and  the  eggs  were  hindered  in  the  nest, 
and  the  young  were  hindered  in  the  body,  retained  in 
the  dark  for  weeks  and  months,  so  tliat  when  first 
they  caught  the  Mother's  eye  they  were  "  strong  and 
of  a  good  liking." 

Though  in  no  case  in  higher  Nature  is  the  young  an 
exact  reproduction  of  its  parent,  it  will  be  admitted 
that  the  likeness  is  very  much  greater  than  among 


276  THE  EVOLUTION  OF  A  MOTHER. 


any  of  the  lower  animals.  The  young  of  many  birds 
are  iib  least  a  colorable  imitation  of  their  parents; 
Natui'e's  young  geese  are  at  least  like  enough  geese 
not  to  be  mistaken  for  swans  ;  no  clog  could  be  misled 
into  mistaking — even  apart  from  the  sense  of  smell — a 
kitten  for  a  puppy,  nor  would  a  hare  ever  be  taken  in 
by  the  young  of  a  rabbit.  Among  domestic  animals 
like  the  sheep  and  cow  there  is  a  culmination  of 
adaptation  in  tliis  direction,  the  lamb  and  the  calf 
when  born  being  almost  fac-similes  of  their  INIothers. 
But  this  point  need  not  be  dwelt  on.  It  is  of  insignif- 
icant importance,  and  belongs  to  the  surface.  The 
idea  of  Nature  going  out  of  her  way  to  make  better 
family  likenesses  will  not  stand  scrutiny  as  a  final  end 
in  physiology.  These  illustrations  are  simply  adduced 
to  confirm  the  impression  that  Nature  is  working  not 
aimlessly,  not  even  mysteriously,  but  in  a  specific 
direction  ;  that  somehow  the  idea  of  Mothers  is  in  her 
mind,  and  that  she  is  trying  to  draw  closer  and  closer 
the  bonds  wliich  are  to  unite  the  children  of  men.  It 
will  be  enough  if  we  have  gathered  from  this  paren- 
thesis that  some  time  in  the  remote  jiast,  parent  and 
child  came  to  be  introduced  to  one  another ;  that  the 
young  when  born  into  the  world  gradually  approached 
the  parental  form,  that  they  no  longer  "shocked  them 
by  tlieir  larval  ugliness  "  ;  so  that  "  the  first  human 
mother  on  record,  seeing  her  first-born  son,  exclaimed  • 
*  I  have  gotten  a  Man  from  the  Lord.'  "  ^ 

If  this  second  process  in  the  Evolution  of  Mother- 
hood is   of  minor  importance,  the  necessity  for  the 
third  will  not  be  doubted.     What  use  is  there  for  per- 
fecting the  power  of  recognition  between  parent  and 
^  Mammalian  Descent,  Prof,  W.  P.  Parker,  F.  R.  S.,  p.  14 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF  A  MOTH  Kit. 


child  if  the  latter  act  like  the  run  of  offspring  in  lower 
nature— spring  off  into  independent  life  the  moment 
they  are  bom  ?  If  the  Mother  is  to  be  taught  to  know 
her  progeny,  surely  the  progeny  also  must  be  taught 
not  to  abandon  their  Mother,  And  hence  Nature  had 
to  set  about  a  somewliat  novel  task — to  teach  the 
youth  of  the  world  the  Fifth  Commandment.  Glance 
once  more  over  the  Animal  series  and  see  how  thor- 
oughly she  taught  them  the  lesson.  It  is  sometimes 
said  that  Xature  has  no  imperativ^es.  In  reality  it  is 
all  imperative.  This  Commandment  was  thrust  upon 
the  early  world  under  penalties  for  disobedience  the 
most  exacting  that  could  be  devised — the  threat  of 
death.  Pick  out  a  few  children  and  inspect  them. 
Take  one  from  the  bottom  of  Nature,  one  from  the 
middle,  and  one  from  the  top,  and  see  if  any  progress 
in  filial  duty  is  visible  as  we  ascend.  The  first, — the 
young  of  Aurelia  will  do,  or  a  ciliated  Infusorian, — 
representing  countless  millions  like  itself,  is  the 
Precocious  Child.  The  moment  this  embryo  is  born 
it  leaves  the  domestic  hearth ;  the  chances  are  it  has 
never  seen  its  parents.  If  it  has  it  disowns  them  on 
the  spot.  A  better  swimmer  in  many  cases — for  many 
of  the  parents  have  forgotten  how  to  swim — it  cannot 
be  overtaken.  It  ignores  its  Mother  and  despises  her. 
The  second  is  the  Good  Intentioned  Child.  This  child 
— a  bird,  let  us  say — begins  well,  stays  much  at  home 
in  the  early  days,  but  plays  the  prodigal  towards  the 
close.  For  some  weeks  it  remains  quietly  in  the  cg^; 
for  more  weeks  it  i-cmains — not  quite  so  quietly — in 
the  nest;  and  for  more  weeks  still — but  with  an  ob- 
vious itching  to  be  off — in  the  neighboi'hood  of  the 
nest.      This,   nevertheless,   is   a  good  subject.     It  is 


V. 


278  THE  EVOLUTION  OF  A  MOTHER. 

really  a  sort  of  a  child,  and  has  really  a  sort  of  a 
Mother.  Tlie  tliird  is  the  Model  Cliild— the  Mammal. 
In  this  cliild,  which  is  only  found  in  the  high  places  of 
Nature,  infancy  reaches  its  last  perfection.  Housed, 
protected,  sumptuously  fed,  the  luxurious  children 
keep  to  their  Mother's  side  for  montiis  and  years,  and 
only  quit  the  parental  roof  when  their  filial  education 

Jls  complete. 

^  On  a  casual  view  of  the  Examiner's  Report  on  these 
various  children  of  Nature  the  physiologist,  as  dis- 
tinguished from  the  educationalist,  might  object  that 
so  far  from  being  the  subject  of  congratulation  it  is  a 
clear  case  for  censure.  If  early  Nature  could  turn  out 
ready-made  animals  in  a  single  hour,  is  it  not  a  retro- 
grade move  to  have  to  take  so  long  about  it  later  on  ? 
When  one  contrasts  the  free  swimming  embryo  of  a 
Medusa,  dashing  out  into  its  heroic  life  the  moment  it 
is  born,  with  the  helpless  kitten  or  the  sightless  pup, 
is  it  unfair  to  ask  if  Nature  has  not  lost  the  trick  of 
making  lusty  lives  ?  Is  she  not  trying  the  new  exper- 
iment at  the  risk  of  blundering  the  old  one,  and  why 
cannot  she  continue  the  earlier  and  more  brilliant 
device  of  making  her  children  knight-errants  from  the 
first  ?  Because  brilliance  is  not  her  object.  Her  ob- 
ject is  ethical  as  well  as  physiological ;  and  though 
when  we  look  below  the  surface  a  purely  physiological 
explanation  of  the  riddle  will  appear,  the  ethical  gain 
is  not  less  clear.  By  curbing  them  she  is  educating 
them,  taming  them,  rescuing  them  from  a  wild  and 
lawless  life.  These  roving  embryos  are  mere  bandits; 
their  nature  and  habits  must  be  changed ;  not  a 
sterner  race  but  a  gentler  race  must  be  born.  New 
words    must    come    into    the    world — Home,    Love, 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF  A  MOTHER.  279 

Mother,  And  these  imperceptibly  slow  drawings  to- 
gether of  i^arent  and  child  are  the  inevitable  prelimi- 
naries of  the  domestication  of  the  Human  Race.  Re- 
garded from  the  ethical  point  of  view  there  are  few 
things  more  significant  than  this  reining-in  of  the 
world's  rampant  youth,  this  tightening  the  bonds  of 
family  life,  this  most  gentle  introduction  of  gentleness 
into  a  world  cold  with  motherless  children  and  heart- 
less with  childless  mothers. 

The  personal  tie  once  formed  between  parent  and 
offspring  could  never  be  undone,  and  from  this 
moment  onwards  must  grow  from  more  to  more.  For 
observe  what  has  happened.  A  generation  has  grown 
up  to  whom  this  tie  is  the  necessity  of  existence. 
Every  Mammalian  child  born  into  the  world  must 
come  to  be  fed,  must,  for  a  given  number  of  hours 
each  day,  be  in  the  maternal  school,  and  whether  it 
like  it  or  not,  learn  its  lessons.  No  young  of  any 
Mammal  can  nourish  itself.  There  is  that  in  it  there- 
fore at  this  stage  which  compels  it  to  seek  its  Mother; 
and  there  is  that  in  the  Mother  which  comj^els  it  even 
physically — and  this  is  the  fourth  process,  on  which 
it  is  needless  to  dwell — to  seek  her  child.  On  the 
physiological  side,  the  name  of  this  impelling  power 
is  lactation ;  on  the  ethical  side,  it  is  Love,  And 
there  is  no  escape  henceforth  from  communion  be- 
tween ]\Iother  and  child,  or  only  one — death.  Break 
this  new  bond  and  the  Mammalia  become  extinct. 
Katur(3  is  in  earnest  here,  if  anywhere.  The  training 
of  Humanity  is  seen  to  be  under  a  compulsory  educa- 
tion act.  It  is  in  the  severity  and  dread  of  her  penal- 
ties, coupled  with  the  impossibility  of  evading  the 
least  of  them,  that  the  will  of  Nature  and  the  serious- 


280  THE  EVOLUTION  01    A  MOTHER, 

ness  of  her  purposes  are  most  declared.  For  the 
physiological  gains  which  underlie  these  ethical  rela- 
tions are  all-important.  It  is  largely  owing  to  them 
that  the  Mammalia  have  taken  their  place  in  the  van 
of  the  procession  of  life.  Under  the  earlier  system 
life  had  a  l)ad  start  ;  each  animal  had  to  push  its  way 
upward  single-handed  from  the  ^gg.  It  Avas  i)lanted, 
so  to  speak,  on  the  first  rung  of  the  ladder,  and  as  the 
risks  of  life  are  immeasurably  great  in  infancy,  it  had 
.all  these  risks  to  take.  Under  the  new  system  it  is 
launched  into  the  Ijattle  already  nourished  and  strong, 
and  passed  scatheless  through  the  first  vicissitudes  of 
youth.  In  the  higher  Mammalia,  in  viitue  of  the 
possession  by  this  group  of  a  placenta  in  addition  to 
the  ordinary  Mammalian  characteristics,  the  young 
have  a  double  chance  of  a  successful  start.  The 
development,  in  fact,  of  higher  forms  of  life  on  the 
earth  has  depended  on  the  physical  perfecting  '  of 
Mothers,  and  of  tlie  physiological  ties  which  bind 
them  to  their  young.  With  the  immense  structural 
advance  of  the  Mammalia,  an  order  of  being  was  in- 
troduced into  Nature  whose  continuity  as  an  all  but 
immortal  series  could  never  be  broken.  Thus  what- 
ever moral  -relations  underlie  the  extraordinary 
physical  characteristic  of  this  highest  class  of  animals, 
there  is  the  added  guarantee  that  they  can  never  be 
destroyed. 

With  the  physical  programme  carried  out  to  the 
last  detail,  the  ethical  drama  opened.  An  eaiiy 
result,  partly  of  her  sex,  and  partly  of  her  passive 
strain,  is  the  founding  through  the  instrumentality  of 
the  first  savage  Mother  of  a  new  and  a  beautiful  social 
state — Domesticity.       While     Man,     restless,     eager, 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF  A  MOTHER.  281 

hungry,  is  a  wanderer  on  the  earth,  Woman  makes  a 
Home.  And  though  thi-;  Home  he  hut  a  i)latform  of 
sticks  and  leaves,  such  as  the  gorilla  hnilds  on  a  ti'ee, 
it  hecomes  the  first  great  school-room  of  the  human 
race.  For  one  day  there  appears  in  this  roofless  room 
that  wliich  is  to  teach  the  teachers  of  the  world — a 
Little  Child. 

No  greater  day  ever  dawned  for  Evolution  than  this 
on  which  the  first  human  child  was  horn.  For  there 
entered  then  into  the  world  the  one  thing  wanting 
to  complete  the  Ascent  of  JMan — a  tutor  for  the 
affections.  It  may  he  that  a  Mother  teaches  a  Child, 
but  in  a  far  deeper  sense  it  is  the  Child  who  teaches 
the  Mother.  Millions  of  millions  of  Mothers  had  lived 
in  the  world  before  this,  but  the  higher  affections  were 
unborn.  Tenderness,  gentleness,  unselfishness,  love, 
•care,  self-sacrifice — -these  as  yet  Avere  not,  or  were  only 
in  the  bud.  Maternity  existed  in  humble  forms,  but 
not  yet  Motherhood.  To  create  Motherhood  and  all 
that  enshrines  itself  in  that  holy  word  recpiired  a 
human  child.  The  creation  of  the  Mammalia  estab- 
lished two  schools  in  the  world — the  two  oldest  and 
surest  and  best  equipped  schools  of  Ethics  that  have 
ever  been  in  it — the  one  for  the  Child,  who  must  now 
at  least  know  its  Mother,  the  other  for  the  Mother, 
who  must  as  certainly  attend  to  her  Child.  The  only 
thing  that  remains  now  is  to  secure  that  they  sliall 
both  be  kept  in  that  school  as  long  as  it  is  possible  to 
detain  them.  The  next  effort  of  Evolution,  therefore 
— the  fifth  process  as  one  might  call  it — is  to 
lengthen  out  these  school  days,  and  give  affection 
time  to  grow. 

No  animal  except  Man  was   permitted  to  have  his 


282  THE  EVOLUTION  OF  A  MOTHER. 

eclncation  thus  prolonged.  Miiny  creatures  were  al- 
lowed to  stay  at  school  for  a  few  days  or  weeks,  but 
to  one  only  was  given  a  curriculum  complete  enough 
to  accomplish  its  exalted  end.  Watch  two  of  the 
highest  organisms  duiing  their  eai'liest  youth,  and 
observe  the  striking  contrast  in  tlie  time  they  are  made 
to  remain  at  their  ]Mother's  side.  The  first  is  a  human 
infant ;  the  second,  born,  let  us  suppose,  on  the  same 
day,  is  a  baby  monkey.  In  a  few  days  or  weeks  the 
baby  monkey  is  almost  able  to  leave  its  Mother.  Al- 
ready it  can  climb,  and  eat,  and  chatter  like  its 
parents ;  and  in  a  few  weeks  more  the  creature  is  as 
independent  of  them  as  the  winged-seed  is  of  the 
parent  tree.  Meantime,  and  for  many  months  to  come, 
its  little  twin  is  unable  to  feed  itself,  or  clothe  itself, 
or  protect  itself;  it  is  a  mere  semi-unconscious  chattel, 
a  sprawling  ball  of  helplessness,  the  world's  one  type 
of  impotence.  The  body  is  there  in  all  its  parts,  bone 
for  bone  and  muscle  for  muscle,  like  the  other.  But 
somehow  this  body  will  not  do  its  work.  Something 
as  yet  hangs  fire.  The  body  has  eyes  but  they  see  not, 
ears  but  they  hear  not,  limbs  but  they  Avalk  not.  This 
body  is  a  failure.  Wliy  does  the  human  infant  lie  like 
a  log  on  the  forest-bed  while  its  nhnble  prototype 
mocks  it  from  the  bough  above?  Why  did  thatwhich 
is  not  human  step  out  into  life  so  long  before  that 
which  is? 

The  question  has  been  answered  for  us  by  Mr.  John 
Fiske,  and  the  world  here  owes  to  him  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  contributions  ever  made  to  tlie  Evolution  of 
JNIan.  We  know  w^hat  this  delay  means  ethically— it 
was  necessary  for  moral  training  that  the  human  child 
should  have  the  longest  possible  time  by  its  Mother's 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF  A  MOTHER.  283 

side — but  what  determines  it  on  the  physical  side  ? 
The  thing  that  constitutes  the  ditierence  between  tlie 
baby  monkey  and  the  baby  man  is  an  exti-a  piece  of 
machinery  which  the  last  possesses  and  t!ie  first  does 
not.  It  is  this  which  is  kee[)ing  back  the  baby  nuuK 
"What  is  tliat  piece  of  machinery  ?  A  brain,  a  humiin 
brain.  Tlie  child,  nevertheless,  is  not  using  it.  Wiiy  ? 
Because  ii  is  not  quite  fitted  up.  Nature  is  working 
hard  at  it ;  but  owing  to  its  intricacy  and  delicacy  the 
process  requires  much  time,  and  till  all  is  ready  the 
babe  must  remain  a  thing.  And  why  does  the  monkey 
brain  get  ready  first  ?  Because  it  is  an  easier  machine 
to  make.  And  why  should  it  be  easier  to  make? 
Because  it  is  only  required  to  do  the  life-work  of  an 
Animal ;  the  other  has  to  do  the  life-work  of  a  Man. 
Mental  Evolution,  in  fact,  here  steps  in,  and  makes  an 
unexpected  contribution  to  the  ethical  development  of 
the  world. 

An  apparatus  for  controlling  one  of  the  lower  ani- 
mals can  be  turned  out  from  the  workshop  of  Nature 
sometimes  in  a  day.  The  wheels  are  few,,  the  works 
ai'e  simple,  the  connections  require  little  time  for  ad- 
justment or  correction.  Everything  that  a  humble 
>)rganism  will  do  has  been  done  a  million  times  by  its 
'parents,  and  already  the  faculties  have  been  carefully 
instructed  by  heredity  and  will  automatically  repeat 
the  whole  life  and  movement  of  their  race.  But  when 
a  Man  is  made,  it  is  not  an  automaton  that  is  made. 
This  being  will  do  new  things,  think  new  thoughts, 
originate  new  ways  of  life.  His  immediate  ancestors 
have  done  the  same,  but  done  some  of  them  so  seldom, 
and  others  of  them  for  so  short  a  time,  that  heredity 
has  failed  to  notice  them.     For  half  the  life,  therefore, 


284  THE  EVOLUTION  OF  A  MOTHER. 

that  lies  before  the  huuiau  offspring  no  storage  of 
habit  lias  been  handed  down  from  the  past.  Each 
descendant  nnist  carve  a  way  through  the  world  for 
itself,  and  learn  to  comport  itself  through  all  the  vary- 
ing incidents  of  life  as  best  it  can.  Xow  tiie  equip- 
ment for  this  is  veiy  complex.  Into  the  infant's  frame 
must  be  fitted  not  only  tlie  apparatus  for  automatic 
repetition  of  what  its  parents  have  done,  but  the  ap- 
paratus for  intelligent  initiation  ;  not  only  the  machin- 
ery for  carrying  on  the  involuntary  and  reflex  actions — 
involuntai'y  and  reflex  because  they  have  been  done 
so  often  by  its  ancestors  as  to  have  become  auto- 
matic— but  for  the  voluntary  and  self-conscious  life 
which  will  do  new  things,  choose  fresh  alternatives, 
seek  liigher  and  more  varied  ends.  Tlie  instrument 
wliich  will  attend  to  breathing  even  when  we  forget 
it;  tlie  apparatus  which  will  make  the  heart  beat  even 
though  we  try  to  stop  it ;  the  self-acting  spring  whicli 
makes  the  eyelid  close  the  moment  it  is  thi'catened — 
these  and  a  hundred  others  are  old  and  well-tried  in- 
ventions which,  from  ceaseless  practice  generation 
after  generation,  work  perfectly  in  each  new  individual 
from  the  start.  Nature  therefore  need  waste  no  time 
at  this  late  day  on  their  improvement.  But  the  higher 
brain  is  comparatively  a  new  thing  in  the  world.  It 
has  to  undertake  a  vaster  range  of  duties,  often  totally 
new  orders  of  duties  ;  it  has  to  do  things  which  its 
forerunners  had  not  quite  learned  to  do,  or  had  not 
quite  learned  to  do  untliinkingly,  and  the  inconceiv- 
ably complex  niacliinery-  requires  time  to  settle  to  its 
work.  The  older  brain-processes  liave  been  greatly 
accelerated  even  now,  and  appear  in  full  activity  at 
an  early  stage  in  the  infant  s  life,  but  the  newer  and 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF  A  MOT II Eli.  285 


the  liii2,-her  are  in  perfect  order  only  after  a  consider- 
able  intei'val  of  udjiistinent  and  elaboration. 

Now  Ijifancy,  physiologically  considered,  means  the 
fitting  up  of  this  extra  machinery  within  the  brain;/ 
and  according  to  its  elaborateness  will  be  the  time 
N  required  to  perfect  it.  A  sailing  vessel  may  put 
to  sea  the  moment  the  rigging  is  in ;  a  steamer  must 
wait  for  the  engines.  And  the  compensation  to  the 
steamer  for  the  longer  time  in  dock  is  discovered  by 
and  bye  in  its  vastly  greater  usefulness,  its  power  of 
varying  its  course  at.  will,  and  in  its  sui)ei-ior  safety  in 
time  of  war  or  storm.  For  its  g^'eater  after-usefulness 
also,  its  more  varied  career,  its  safer  life,  humanity  has 
to  pay  tribute  to  Evolution  by  a  delayed  and  helpless 
Infancy,  a  prolonged  and  critical  constructive  process. 
Childhood  in  its  early  stage  is  a  series  of  installations 
and  trials  of  the  new  machinery,  a  slow  experimenting 
with  powers  and  faculties  so  fresh  that  heredity  in 
handing  them  down  has  been  unable  to  accompany 
them  with  full  directions  as  to  their  use. 

The  Brain  of  INIan,  to  change  the  figure— if  indeed 
any  figure  of  that  marvellous  molecular  structuj'e  can 
be  attempted  without  seriously  misleading — is  an 
elevated  table-land  of  stratified  nervous  matter,  fur- 
rowed by  deep  and  sinuous  cafions,  and  traversed  b}'  a 
vast  net- work  of  highways  along  which  Thoughts  pass 
to  and  fro.  The  old  and  often-repeated  Thoughts,  or 
mental  processes,  pass  along  beaten  tracks  ;  the  newer 
Thoughts  have  less  mai-ked  footpaths  ;  the  newer  still 
are  compelled  to  construct  fresh  Thought-routes  for 
themselves.  Gradually  these  become  established  thor- 
oughfares; but  in  the  increasing  ti-affic  and  complexity 
of  life,  new  paths  in  endless  nuiltitudes   have  to  be 


286  THE  EVOLUTION  OF  A  MOTHER. 


added,  and  bye  lanes  and  loops  between  the  older  high- 
ways must  be  thrown  into  the  system.  The  stations 
upon  these  roads  from  which  tlie  travellers  set  out 
are  cells;  the  roads  are  trnnsit  fibres;  the  travellers 
themselves  are  in  physiological  language  nervous  dis- 
charges, in  psychological  language  mental  processes. 
Each  new  mental  process  involves  a  new  redistribu- 
tion of  nervous  matter  among  the  cells,  a  new  ti'avel- 
ling  of  nervous  discharge  along  one  or  many  of  the 
transit  fibres.  Now  in  every  new  connection  of  ideas 
multitudes  of  cells  and  even  nmltitudes  of  groups  of 
cells  may  be  concerned,  so  that  should  it  happen  that 
a  combination  of  these  precise  centi'es  had  never  been 
made  before,  it  is  obvious  that  no  routes  could  pos- 
sibly exist  between  them,  and  these  must  then  and 
there  be  prospected.  Each  new  Thought  is  therefore 
a  pioneer,  a  road-maker,  or  road-chooser,  through  the 
brain ;  and  the  exhaustless  possibilities  of  continuous 
development  may  be  judged  from  the  endlessness  of 
the  possible  combinations.  In  the  oldest  and  most- 
used  brain  there  nuist  always  remain  vast  territories 
still  to  be  explored,  and  as  it  were  civilized ;  and  in  all 
men  multitudes  of  possible  connections  continue  to  the 
last  unrealized.  When  it  is  remembered,  indeed,  that 
the  brain  itself  is  very  large,  the  largest  mass  of 
nerve-matter  in  the  organic  world  ;  when  it  is  further 
realized  that  each  of  the  cells  of  which  it  is  built  up 
measures  only  one  tenth-thousandth  of  an  inch  in 
diameter,  that  the  transit  fibres  which  connect  them 
are  of  altogether  unimaginable  fineness,  the  limitless- 
ness  of  the  powers  of  Thought  and  the  inconceivable 
complexity  of  these  processes  will  begin  to  be  under- 
stood. 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF  A  MOTHEH.  287 

Now  it  is  owing  to  tlie  necessity  for  liaving  a  cer- 
tain number  of  the  more  useful  routes  establisliecl  be- 
fore the  babe  can  be  trusted  from  its  Mother's  side, 
that  the  dehiy  of  Infancy  is  required.  And  even  after 
the  child  has  begun  to  practise  the  art  of  living  for 
itself,  time  has  still  to  be  granted  for  many  purposes 
— for  new  route-making,  for  becoming  familiar  with 
established  thoroughfares,  for  practising  upon  obsta- 
cles and  gradients,  for  learning  to  perform  the  jour- 
neys quickly  and  without  fatigue,  for  allowing  acts  re- 
peated to  accelerate  and  embody  themselves  as  habits. 
In  the  savage-state,  where  the  after-life  is  simple,  the 
adjustments  are  made  with  comparative  ease  and 
speed ;  but  as  we  rise  in  the  scale  of  civilization  the 
necessary  period  of  Infancy  lengthens  step  by  step, 
until  in  the  case  of  the  most  highly  educated  man, 
where  adjustments  must  be  made  to  a  wide  intellect- 
ual environment,  the  age  of  tutelage  extends  for  al- 
most a  quarter  of  a  century. 

The  use  of  all  this  to  morals,  the  reactions  espe- 
cially upon  the  Mother,  are  too  obvious-  to  dwell 
on.  Till  the  brain  arrived,  everything  was  too 
brief,  too  rapid  for  ethical  achievements ;  animals 
were  in  a  hurry  to  be  born,  children  thirsted  to 
be  free.  There  was  no  helplessness  to  pity,  no 
pain  to  relieve,  no  quiet  hours,  no  watching;  to 
the  Mother,  no  moment  of  suspense  —  the  most 
educative  moment  of  all — when  the  spark  of  life  in 
her  little  one  burned  low.  Parents  could  be  no  use 
to  their  offspring  physically,  and  the  offspring  could 
be  no  use  to  their  parents  psychically.  The  young 
required  no  Infancy;  the  old  acquired  no  Sympathy. 
Even   among  the  other  Mammalia  or  the  Birds  the 


288  THE  i: VOLUTION  OF  A  MOTHLR. 

Mother's  chance  Avas  smalL  There,  Infancy  extends 
to  a  few  day.i  or  weeks,  yet  is  but  an  incident  in  a  life 
preoccupied  with  sterner  tasks.  A  lioness  will  bleed 
for  her  cub  to-day,  and  in  to-morrow's  struggle  for  life 
contend  with  it  to  the  death.  A  sheep  knows  its 
Iamb  only  while  it  is  a  lamb.  The  affection  in  these 
cases,  fierce  enough  while  it  lasts,  is  soon  forgotten, 
and  the  traces  it  left  in  the  brain  are  obliterated  be- 
fore they  have  furrowed  into  habit.  Among  the  Gar- 
ni vora  it  is  instructive  to  observe  that  while  the  brief 
spau  of  infancy  admits  of  the  Mother  learning  a  little 
Love,  the  father,  for  want  of  even  so  brief  a  lesson,  re- 
mains untouched,  so  wholly  untouched  indeed  that 
the  Mother  has  often  tojiide  her  offspring  from  him 
lest  they  be  devoured.  )  Love  then  had  no  chance  till 
tlie  Human  Mother  came.  To  her  alone  was  given  a 
curriculum  prolonged  enough  to  let  her  graduate  in 
tliG  school  of  the  affections!?  -^ot  for  days  or  weeks, 
but  for  months,  as  the  cry  of  her  infant's  helplessness 
went  forth,  she  must  stand  between  tlie  flickering 
flame  and  death ;  and  for  yeai-s  to  come,  vuitii  the  bud- 
ding intellect  could  take  its  own  command,  this  liOve 
dare  not  grow  cold,  or  pause  an  hour  in  its  unselfish 
ministry. 

Begin  at  the  beginning  again  and  recall  the  fact 
of  woman's  passive  strain.  A  tendency  to  passivity 
means,  among  other  things,  a  capacity  to  sit  still.  Be 
it  but  for  a  minute  or  an  hour  does  not  matter;  the 
point  is  that  the  faintest  possible  capacity  is  there. 
For  this  is  the  embryo  of  Patience  and  if  much  and 
long  nursed  a  fully  fledged  Patience  will  come  out  of 
it.  Supply  next  to  this  nevi'  virtue  some  definite  ob- 
ject on  which  to  practise,  Icl  us  say  a  child.     "When 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF  A  MOTHER.  289 

this  cliikl  is  in  trouble  the  Mother  will  observe  the 
signs  of  pain.  Its  cry  will  awaken  associations,  and 
in  some  dull  sense  the  Mother  will  feel  with  it.  But 
"feeling  with  another"  is  the  literal  translation  of 
the  name  of  a  second  virtue— Sympathy.  From  feel- 
ing- with  it,  tlie  parent  will  sooner  or  later  be  led  to  do 
sinnetliing  to  help  it ;  then  it  Mill  do  more  things  to 
help  it ;  finally  it  will  be  always  helping  it.  Now,  to 
care  for  things  is  to  become  Careful ;  to  tend  things  is 
to  become  Tender.  Here  are  four  virtues — Patience, 
Sympath}',  Carefulness,  Tenderness — already  dawning 
upon  mankind. 

On  occasion  Sympathy  will  be  called  out  in  unusual 
ways.  Crises  will  occur — dangers,  famines,  sick- 
nesses. At  first  the  Mother  will  be  unable  to  meet 
tliese  extreme  demands — her  fund  of  Sympathy  is  too 
poor.  She  cannot  take  any  exceptional  trouble,  or  for- 
get herself,  or  do  anything  very  heroic.  The  child, 
unable  to  breast  the  danger  alone,  dies.  It  is  well 
that  this  should  be  so.  It  is  the  severity  and  right- 
eous justice  of  Nature — the  tragedy  of  Ivan  Ivan- 
ovitch  anticipated  by  Evolution,  A  ^Mother  who  has 
failed  in  helpfulness  must  leave  no  successor  to  per- 
petuate her  umvorthiness  in  posterity.  Somewhere 
else,  however,  developing  along  similar  lines,  there  is 
another  fractionally  better  Mother.  When  the  emer- 
gency occurs,  she  rises  to  the  occasion.  For  one  hour 
she  transcends  herself.  That  day  a  cubit  is  added  to 
the  moral  stature  of  mankind;  the  first  act  of  Self- 
Sacrifice  is  registered  in  favor  of  the  human  race.  It 
may  or  may  not  be  that  the  child  will  acquire  its 
Mother's  virtue.  But  unselfishness  has  scored;  its 
child  has  proved  itself  fitter  to  surviv*^  than  the  child 
19 


290  THE  EVOLUTION  OF  A  MOTHER. 

of  Selfishness.  It  does  not  follow  that  in  all  circum- 
stances the  nobler  will  l)e  always  victorious  :  hut  it 
has  a  great  chance.  A  few  score  more  of  centuries, 
a  few  more  millions  of  Mothers,  and  the  germs  of 
Patience,  Carefulness,  Tenderness,  Sympathy,  and 
Self-Sacrifice  will  have  rooted  themselves  in  Hu- 
manity. 

See  then  what  the  Savage  Mother  and  her  Babe 
have  brought  into  the  world.  When  the  first  Mother 
awoke  to  her  first  tenderness  and  warmed  her  loneli- 
ness at  her  infant's  love,  when  for  a  moment  she  for- 
got herself  and  thought  upon  its  weakness  or  its  j^ain, 
when  by  the  most  imperceptible  act  or  sign  or  look  of 
sympathy  she  expressed  the  unutterable  impulse  of 
her  Motherhood,  the  touch  of  a  new  creative  hand  was 
felt  upon  the  world.  However  short  the  earliest  in- 
fancies, however  feeble  the  sparks  they  fanned,  how- 
ever long  heredity  took  to  gather  fuel  enough  for  a 
steady  flame,  it  is  certain  that  once  tliis  fire  began  to 
warm  the  cold  hearth  of  Nature  and  give  human- 
ity a  heart,  the  most  stupendous  task  of  the  past  was 
f  accomplished.  A  softened  pressure  of  an  uncouth 
I  hand,  a  human  gleam  in  an  almost  animal  eye,  an 
/  endearment  in  an  inarticulate  voice — feeble  things 
/—  enough.  Yet  in  these  faint  awakenings  lay  the  hope 
of  the  human  race.  "From  of  old  we  have  heard  the 
monition,  'Except  ye  be  as  babes  ye  cannot  enter  the 
kingdom  of  Heaven ' ;  the  latest  science  now  shows 
us — though  in  a  very  different  sense  of  the  words — 
that  unless  we  had  been  as  babes,  the  ethical  phe- 
nomena which  give  all  its  significance  to  the  phrase 
'  Kingdom  of  Heaven  '  would  have  been  non-exist- 
ent for  us.     Without   the  circumstances  of  Infancy, 


rilE  EVOLUTION  OF  A  MOTHER. 


ll 


L 


we  might  have  become  formidable  among  animals 
through  sheer  force  of  sharp-wittedness.  But  except 
for  these  circumstances  we  should  never  have  com- 
prehended the  meaning  of  such  pln-ases  as  '  self-sacri- 
fice '  or  '  devotion.'  The  phenomena  of  social  life 
would  have  been  omitted  from  the  history  of  the 
world,  and  with  them  the  phenomena  of  ethics  and 
religion."  ^ 

1  Fiske,  Cosmic  Philosophy  Vol.  ii.,  p.  363. 


/■ 
/ 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  EVOLUTION  OF  A  FATHER. 

In  last  chapter  we  watched  the  beautiful  experi- 
ment of  Nature  making  Mothers.  "We  saw  how  the 
young  produced  at  one  birtli  were  gradually  reduced 
in  numbers  until  it  was  possible  for  affection  to  con- 
centrate upon  a  single  object;  how  that  object  was 
delayed  in  birth  till  it  was  a  likeable  and  presentable 
thing ;  how  it  was  tied  to  its  mother's  side  by  phys- 
ical bonds,  and  hindered  there  for  years  to  give  time 
for  the  Mother's  care  to  ripen  into  love.  We  saw, 
what  Avas  still  more  instructive,  that  Nature,  when 
she  had  laid  the  train  for  perfecting  these  arrange- 
ments, gave  up  making  any  more  animals ;  and  that 
there  were  physiological  reasons  why  this  well- 
mothered  class  should  survive  beyond  all  others,  and, 
by  sheer  physiological  fitness,  henceforth  dominate 
the  world. 

But  there  was  still  a  crowning  task  to  accomplish. 
The  world  was  now  beginning  to  fill  with  ]\[others, 
but  there  were  no  Fatliers.  During  all  this  long 
process  the  Father  has  not  even  been  named.  Noth- 
ing that  has  been  done  has  touched  or  concerned  him 
almost  in  the  least  degree.     He  has  gone  his  own  way 

292 


THE  KVOLUTIOX  OF  A    FATHER.  29H 

lived  outside  all  these  changes  ;  and  while  Nature  lias 
succeeded  in  moulding  a  human  Mother  and  a  human 
child,  he  still  wanders  in  the  forest  a  savage  and 
unblessed  soul. 

This  time  for  him,  nevertheless,  is  not  lost.  In 
his  own  way  he  is  also  at  school,  and  learning  lessons 
which  Mill  one  day  bo  equally  needed  by  humanity. 
The  acquisitions  of  the  manly  life  are  as  necessary 
to  human  character  as  the  virtues  which  gather  their 
sweetness  by  the  cradle ;  and  these  robuster  elements 
— strength,  courage,  manliness,  endurance,  self-reli- 
ance— could  only  have  been  secured  away  from 
domestic  cares.  Apart  from  that,  it  was  not  neces- 
sary to  put  the  Father  through  the  same  mill  as  the 
INIother.  Whatever  the  Mother  gained  would  be 
handed  on  to  her  boys  as  well  as  to  her  girls,  and 
with  the  law  of  heredity  to  square  accounts,  it  was 
unnecessary  for  each  of  the  two  great  sides  of  human- 
ity to  make  the  same  investments.  By  one  acquiring 
one  set  of  virtues  and  the  other  another,  the  blend  in 
the  end  would  be  the  richer ;  and,  without  obliter- 
ating the  eternal  individualities  of  each,  the  measure 
of  completeness  would  be  gained  more  quickly  for  the 
race.  Before  heredity,  however,  could  do  its  work 
upon  the  Father  a  certain  basis  had  to  be  laid.  With 
his  original  habits  he  would  squander  the  hereditary 
gains  as  fast  as  he  received  them,  and  unless  some 
change  was  brought  about  in  his  mode  of  life  the  old 
wild  blood  in  his  veins  would  counteract  the  gentler 
influence,  and  leave  all  the  Mother's  work  in  vain. 
Hence  Nature  had  to  set  about  another  long  and  difiB- 
cult  process — to  make  the  savage  Father  a  reformed 
character. 


294  THE  EVOLUTION  OF  A   FATHER. 


The  Evolution  of  a  Father  is  not  so  beautiful  a  pro- 
cess as  the  Evolution  of  a  Mother,  but  it  Avas  almost 
as  formidable  a  problem  to  attack.  As  much  de- 
pended on  it,  as  we  shall  see,  as  the  training  of  the 
mother;  and  though  it  began  later  it  required  the 
bringing  about  of  one  or  two  changes  in  Nature  as 
novel  as  any  that  preceded  it.  When  the  work  was 
begun,  the  Father  was  in  a  much  worse  plight,  so  far 
as  training  for  family  life  was  concerned,  than  the 
Mother.  If  Maternity  was  at  a  feeble  level  in  the 
lower  reaches  of  Nature,  Paternity  was  non-existent. 
Among  a  few  Invertebrates  the  male  parent  took  a 
passing  share  in  the  care  of  the  egg.,  but  it  is  not  until 
we  are  all  but  at  tlie  top  that  fatherly  interest  finds 
any  real  expression.  Among  the  Birds,  the  parents 
unite  together  in  most  cases  to  build  the  nest,  the 
Father  doing  the  rough  work  of  bringing  in  moss  and 
twigs,  while  the  more  trusty  Mother  does  the  actual 
work.  When  the  eggs  are  laid,  the  male  parent  also 
takes  his  turn  at  incubation ;  supplies  food  and  pro- 
tection ;  and  lingers  round  the  place  of  birth  to  defend 
the  fledglings  to  the  last.  When  we  leave  the  Birds, 
however,  and  pass  on  to  the  Mammals,  the  Fathers 
are  nearly  all  backsliders.  Many  are  not  only  indif- 
ferent to  their  young,  but  hostile:  and  among  the 
Carnivora  the  Mothers  have  frequently  to  hide  their 
little  ones  in  case  the  father  eats  them. 

We  have  another  and  a  more  serious  count  against 
early  Fatherhood.  If  the  Love  of  Father  for  child 
was  in  this  backward  state,  infinitely  moi'e  grave  was 
the  condition  of  things  between  him  and  the  Mother. 
Probably  we  have  all  taken  it  for  granted  that  hus- 
bands and   wives  have  always    loved    one    another. 


TUE  EVOLUTIOX  OF  A  FATHER.  295 

Evolution  takes  nothing  for  granted.  Tlie  aficotion 
between  husband  and  m  ife  is,  of  all  the  immeasurable 
forms  of  Love,  the  most  beautiful,  the  most  lasting, 
and  the  most  divine  ;  yet  up  to  this  time  we  have 
not  been  able  even  to  record  its  existence.  The 
finished  results  of  Evolution  appear  so  natural  to 
us,  looking  back  from  this  late  day,  that  we  contin- 
ually ignore  the  difficulties  it  had  to  meet,  and  forget 
how  every  single  step  in  progress  from  the  lowest  to 
the  highest  had  to  be  carried  at  the  bayonet's  point. 
The  most  informed  naturalist  probably  has  never 
given  Nature  credit  for  a  thousandth  part  of  the  work 
she  has  done,  or  has  succeeded  in  presenting  to  his 
mind  more  than  a  surface  outline  of  the  gigantic 
series  of  problems  she  had  to  solve.  In  lower  Nature, 
as  a  simple  fact,  male  and  female  do  not  love  one 
another;  and  in  the  lower  reaches  of  Human  Nature, 
husband  and  wife  do  not  love  one  another.  Among 
exceptional  nations,  for  the  last  few  hours  of  the 
world's  history,  husbands  and  wives  have  truly  loved ; 
but  for  the  vast  mass  of  Mankind,  during  the  long 
ages  which  preceded  historic  times,  conjugal  love  was 
probably  all  but  unknown. 

Now  hei'e  is  a  very  pretty  problem  for  Evolution. 
She  has  at  once  to  make  good  Husbands  and  good 
Fathers  out  of  lawless  savages.  Unless  this  problem 
is  solved  the  higher  progress  of  the  world  is  at  an  end. 
It  is  the  mature  opinion  of  every  one  who  has  thought 
upon  the  history  of  the  world,  that  the  thing  of 
highest  importance  for  all  times  and  to  all  nations  is 
Family  Life.  When  the  Family  was  instituted,  and 
not  till  then,  the  higher  Evolution  of  the  world  was 
secured.     Hence  the  exceptional  value  of  the  Father's 


29(3  THE  EVOLUTION  OF  A  FATHER. 

development.  As  the  other  lialf  of  the  arch  on  Avhich 
the  whole  higher  world  is  built,  his  taming,  his  do- 
mestication, his  moral  discipline,  are  vital;  and  in  the 
nature  of  things  this  was  the  next  great  operation 
undertaken  hy  Evolution. 

The  first  step  in  the  transition  was  to  relate  him, 
definitely  and  permanently,  to  the  JMother.  And  here 
a  formidable  initial  obstacle  had  to  be  encountered. 
The  apathy  and  estrangement  between  husband  and 
wife  in  the  animal  world  is  radical  and  universal. 
There  is  almost  no  such  thing  there  as  married  life. 
Marriage,  in  anthropology,  is  not  a  Avord  for  an  oc- 
casion, but  for  a  state ;  it  is  not,  that  is  to  say,  a 
wedding,  but  a  dwelling  together  throughout  life  of 
husband  and  wife.  Now  when  Man  emei'ged  from  the 
animal  creation  this  institution  of  conjugal  life  had 
not  been  arrived  at.  Marriage  like  everything  else 
has  been  slowly  evolved,  and  until  it  was  evolved, 
until  they  learned  to  dwell  continually  together,  there 
was  no  chance  for  mutual  love  to  spring  up  between 
male  and  female.  In  Nature  the  pairing  season  is 
usually  but  an  incident.  It  lasts  only  a  very  short 
time,  and  during  the  rest  of  the  year,  with  some  ex- 
ceptions the  sexes  remain  apart.  From  the  investi- 
gations of  Westermarck, — vv'ho  has  lately  contributed  to 
sociology  the  most  masterly  account  of  the  Evolu- 
tion of  Marriage  we  possess — it  appears  more  than 
probable  that  the  earliest  progenitors  of  Man  had  also 
a  pairing  season,  and  that  the  young  were  born  at  a 
particular  time  of  the  year,  and  never  at  any  other 
time.  All  the  animals  nearest  to  Man  m  Nature  have 
such  a  season,  and  there  are  only  a  few  known — the 
flephant  for  instance,  and  some  of  the  whales — which 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF  A  FATHER.  297 

have  none.  Now  the  brevity  of  this  period  in  the 
father's  case  must  liave  told  against  his  developing 
any  real  affection.  If  he  is  to  run  away  a  few  days 
after  the  young  are  born  he  will  miss  all  the  disci- 
pline of  the  home,  and  as  this  discipline  is  essential,  as 
this  is  the  only  way  in  Avhich  love  can  he  acquired, 
or  iidierited  love  developed,  some  method  must  be 
adopted  in  his  case  to  extend  the  period  of  home  life 
during  which  it  can  act. 

Now  let  us  see  how  this  was  done.  The  problem 
being  to  give  Love  time,  the  solution  was  in  some  way 
to  alter  the  circumstances  which  confined  the  pairing 
season  to  a  specific  date — to  abolish,  in  fact,  the 
pairing  season  in  the  case  of  Man,  and  lengthen 
out  the  time  in  which  husband  and  wife  should  stay 
together.  And  as  this  was  actually  the  method 
adopted,  we  have  first  to  ask  what  these  special 
circumstances  were.  Why  should  animals  have  speci- 
fic dates  at  all  ?  The  clue  will  be  found  if  we  examine 
carefully  what  these  dates  are  and  the  reasons  Nature 
has  had  for  choosing  them.  Some  wise  principle 
must  underlie  this,  or  it  would  not  be  the  universal 
rule  it  is.  The  pairing  time  with  Birds,  as  every  one 
knows,  occurs  in  the  Spring.  With  Ileptiles  this  is 
also  the  case  ;  but  among  Mammals  each  species  has  a 
season  peculiar  to  itself,  every  separate  month  being 
selected  by  one  or  other,  and  invariably  adhered  to. 
"  The  bat  pairs  in  January  and  February ;  the  wild 
camel  in  the  desert  to  the  east  of  Lake  Lob-nor,  from 
the  middle  of  January  nearly  to  the  end  of  February  ; 
the  Canis  Azarse  and  the  Indian  bison  in  winter;  the 
weasel  in  ]\  larch ;  the  kulan  from  May  to  July;  the 
musk-ox  at  the  end  of  August;  the  elk,  in  the  Baltic 


298  THE  EVOLUTION  OF  A  FATHER. 

Provinces,  at  the  end  of  August,  and,  in  Asiatic  Rus- 
sia, in  September  or  October  ;  tlie  wild  Yak  in  Tibet 
in  September ;  tlie  reindeer  in  Norway  at  tlie  end  of 
September;  tlie  badger  in  October;  the  Capra  pyre- 
naica  in  November ;  the  chamois,  the  musk-deer,  and 
the  orongo-anteloi)e  in  November  and  December  ;  the 
wolf,  from  the  end  of  December  to  the  middle  of 
February."  ^  It  might  seem  that  no  law  governed 
these  various  dates,  but  their  very  variety  is  the  proof 
of  an  underlying  principle.  For  these  dates  show 
that  each  animal  in  each  particular  country  chooses 
that  time  of  the  year  to  give  birth  to  her  young  when 
they  will  have  the  best  chance  of  surviving — that  is  to 
say,  when  the  climate  is  mildest,  food  most  abundant, 
and  the  prospects  of  life  on  the  whole  most  favor- 
able. The  dormouse  thus  brings  forth  its  young  in 
August,  when  the  nuts  begin  to  ripen;  and  the  young 
deer  sees  the  light  just  before  the  first  grass  shoots 
into  greenness.  Because  those  born  at  this  season 
survived  and  those  born  out  of  it  perished,  by  the 
pi'ohmged  action  of  Natural  Selection  these  dates  iu 
time  probably  became  engrained  in  the  species,  and 
would  only  alter  with  climate  itself. 

But  when  Man's  Evolution  made  a  certain  progress, 
and  when  the  Mother's  care  reached  mature  perfec- 
tion, it  was  no  longer  imperative  for  children  to  be 
born  only  when  the  sun  was  shining,  and  the  fruits 
grew  ripe.  The  parents  could  now  make  provision 
for  any  weather  and  for  any  dearth.  They  could  give 
their  little  ones  clothes  when  nights  grew  cold;  they 
could  build  barns  and  granaries  against  times  of 
famine.  In  any  climate,  and  at  any  time,  their  young 
1  Westermarck's  HUtory  of  Huntan  MaiTiarje,  p.  26. 


THE  EVOLUriON  OF  A  FATHER.  299 


were  safe  ;  and  the  old  marriage  dates,  with  their  sub- 
sequent desertions,  were  struclc  from  tlie  human  cal- 
endar. So  arose,  or  at  least  was  inaugurated,  Family- 
Life,  the  first  and  the  last  nursery  of  the  higher  sym- 
pathies, and  the  home  of  all  that  was  aftei'wards  holy 
in  the  world.  One  could  not  find  a  simpler  instance 
of  the  growing  sovereignty  of  i\Iind  over  the  powers 
of  Nature.  So  remote  a  cause  as  the  inclination  of 
the  earth's  axis,  and  the  consequent  changes  of  the 
seasons,  determines  the  time  of  Marriage  for  almost 
tlie  whole  animal  creation,  while  Man,  and  a  few  other 
forms  of  life  whose  environment  is  exceptional,  are 
able  to  refuse  all  such  dictations.  It  was  when  Man's 
mind  became  capable  of  making  its  own  jirovisions 
against  the  weather  and  the  cro'ps  that  the  possibility 
of  Fatherhood,  Motherhood,  and  the  Family  were  re- 
alized. 

The  supporters  of  the  hypothesis  of  promiscuity 
have  tried  to  show,  M'hat  would  almost  follow  from 
their  theory,  that  the  cliildren  in  piimitive  times  be- 
longed rather  to  the  tribe.  But  it  is  not  likely  that 
this  was  the  case.  The  hypothesis  of  promiscuity 
itself,  notwithstanding  its  support  fi-om  M'Lennan, 
Morgan,  Lubbock,  Bastian,  Post  and  other  authorities, 
has  probably  received  its  deathblow ;  and  the  ancient- 
ness  of  the  family  as  well  as  of  the  institution  of  Mar- 
riage are  both  vindicated  by  later  facts.  "  Every- 
where," writes  Westermarck,  "  we  find  the  tribes  or 
clans  composed  of  several  families,  the  members  of 
each  family  being  more  closely  connected  with  one 
another  than  with  the  rest  of  the  tribe.  The  Family, 
consisting  of  parents,  children,  and  often  also  their 
next  descendants,  is  a  universal  institution  among  ex- 


300  THE  EVOLUTION  OF  A  FATHER.. 

isting  people.  And  it  seems  extremely  probable  that 
among-  our  early  human  ancestors,  the  Family  proved, 
if  not  the  Society  itself,  at  least  the  nucleus  of  it.  I 
do  not,  of  course,  deny  that  the  tie  which  bound  the 
children  to  the  Mother  was  much  more  intimale  and 
more  lasting  than  that  which  bound  them  to  the 
Father;  but  it  seetns  to  me  tbat  the  only  result  to 
which  a  critical  investigation  of  facts  can  lead  us  is, 
that  in  all  probability  there  has  been  no  stage  of 
human  development  where  marriage  has  not  existed, 
and  that  the  father  has  always  been,  as  a  rule,  the 
protector  of  his  Family."  ^ 

But  the  process  is  not  yet  quite  completed.  Witli 
the  longer  time  together  husband  and  wife  may  get 
to  know  and  lean  upon  one  another  a  little,  but  the 
time  is  still  too  short  for  deep  affection,  and  there 
remain  one  or  two  serious  obstacles  to  remove.  In- 
deed, unless  some  further  steps  are  taken,  this  first 
achievement  must  end  in  failure.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
it  has  often  ended  in  failure,  and  there  have  been  and 
still  are  tribes  and  nations  where  love  between  hus- 
band and  wife  is  non-existent.  Among  the  llovas,  Me 
are  assured  by  authorities,  the  idea  of  love  between 
husband  and  wife  is  "hardly  thought  of";  that  at 
Winnebah  "  not  even  the  appearance  of  affection " 
exists  between  them  ;  that  among  the  Beni-Amer  it  is 
"  considered  even  disgraceful  for  a  wife  to  show  any 
affection  for  her  husband";  that  the  Chittagong  Hill 
tribes  have  "no  idea  of  tenderness  nor  of  chivah'ous 
devotion " ;  and  that  the  Eskimo  treat  their  wives 
"with  great  coldness  and  neglect."  The  savage 
cruelty  with  which  wives  are  treated  by  the  Aus- 
i  Op.  cit.,  pp.  42-50. 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF  A  FATllEli.  301 

tralian  aborigines  is  indicated  even  in  their  weapons. 
The  very  names  "  Servant,  Slave,"  by  wliicli  the 
Brahman  address  their  wives,  and  the  wife's  reply, 
"  Master,  Lord,"  symbolize  the  gulf  between  the  two. 
There  are  exceptions,  it  is  true,  and  often  touching- 
exceptions.  Ti'avellers  cite  instances  of  constancy 
among  savage  peoples  which  reach  the  region  of 
romance.  Probably  there  never  was  a  time,  indeed, 
nor  a  race,  when  some  measure  of  sympathy  did  not 
stir  between  husband  and  wife.  But  when  we  con- 
sider all  the  facts,  it  is  impossible  to  doubt  that  in  the 
region  of  all  the  higher  affections  the  savage  wife  and 
the  savage  husband  were  all  but  strangers  to  each 
other. 

What  then  was  wanting  for  the  perfecting  of  the 
domestic  tie,  and  how  did  Evolution  secure  it?  In 
the  animal  creation,  we  have  already  witnessed  the 
methods  which  Nature  took  to  get  more  care  out  of 
little  care,  to  make  a  short-lived  sympathy  gi-ow  into 
a  great  sympathy.  Her  method  was  first,  concen- 
tration; and  second,  extension  of  time.  By  giving  a 
Mother  one  or  two  young  to  care  for  instead  of  a 
hundred,  she  made  care  practicable,  and  by  lengthen- 
ing the  period  of  infancy  from  hours  to  years  she 
made  it  inevitable.  And  these  are  again  her  methods 
in  perfecting  love  between  man  and  wife.  By  abolish- 
ing the  pairing  season  she  lengthened  the  time  for 
love  to  grow  in;  the  next  stei)  is  to  perfect  the  object  / 
on  wliich  it  shall  focus.  For  there  was  again  the 
same  sort  of  barrier  to  a  full-blown  love  which  Ave 
saw  before  in  the  animal  kingdom.  An  animal 
mother  could  not  truly  love  in  the  early  days  because 
Bhe  had  a  hundred  or  a  thousand  young.     Man  could 


a02  THE  EVOLUTION  OF  A  FATHER. 

not  love  in  the  early  days  because  he  had  a  dozen 
Avives.  Tills  love  was  too  diluted  to  come  to  any- 
thing. What  Evolution  next  worked  at  was  to  get 
a  quintessence.  Polygamy,  in  other  words  the  scat- 
tered love  of  many,  must,  from  this  time  forward,  be 
changed  into  monogamy — tlie  absorbing  love  of  one. 
And  this  transposition  was  gradually  introduced.  A 
few  polygamous  people,  a  very  few  at  first,  become 
monogamous.  The  new  system  worked  better,  it 
spread,  and  was  finally  adopted  by  those  higher 
nations  which  it  also  helped  to  create.  It  is  an 
instance,  nevertheless,  of  the  slowness  with  which 
radical  changes  succeed  iu  leaving  great  masses  of 
mankind,  that  the  older  system,  with  the  ban  of 
Evolution  upon  it,  still  survives  in  INIodern  Europe. 
Yet  there  are  signs,  even  among  the  uncivilized,  that 
polygamy  is  passing  away.  Among  some  almost 
savage  tribes  it  is  uidcnowu ;  among  others  prohibited. 
Even  in  a  polygamous  community  it  is  usually  only  a 
minority  who  have  more  wives  than  one.  And  where 
the  plural  system  is  in  full  force,  the  tendency — the 
Evolutionist  would  say  the  transition — to  monogamy 
is  plainly  marked,  for  among  the  many  wives  pos- 
sessed by  any  individual,  there  is  generally  one  who 
is  first  favorite  and  ranks  as  helpmeet  or  wife.  The 
stress  just  laid  upon  the  ethical  gains  of  the  monog- 
amous state  as  contrasted  with  the  polygamous,  of 
course  only  emphasizes  one  side  of  the  question,  and 
by  the  pure  naturalist  might  be  ruled  out  of  court. 
Were  the  physiologist  to  go  over  the  same  ground  he 
could  give  a  parallel  account  of  the  development,  and 
show  that  on  the  merely  physiological  plane  tlie  tran- 
sition to  monogamy  and  the  rise  of  the  Family  was 


THE  EVOL  UTIOX  OF  A  FA  TllER.  303 

a  likely  if  not  an  inevitable  result.  It  is  at  least 
certain  that  during  those  later  stages  of  social  Evo- 
lution in  which  Monogamy  has  prevailed,  the  change 
has  been  in  the  best  pliysical  interests  alike  of  the 
parents,  the  offspring,  and  of  society. 

This  barrier  removed,  Evolution  had  still  much  to 
do  to  the  other — the  brevity  of  the  time  during  which 
husband  and  wife  remained  together.  What  short 
work  Nature  had  already  made  of  this  obstacle — -by 
abolishing  the  pairing  season — we  have  just  seen. 
But  that  requires  supplementing.  It  is  not  enough  to 
give  time  for  mutual  knowledge  and  affection  after 
marriage.  Xature  must  deepen  tlie  result  by  extend- 
ing it  to  the  time  before  marriage.  In  primitive  times 
there  was  no  such  thing  as  courtship.  Men  secured 
their  wives  in  three  Avays,  and  in  uncivilized  nations 
so  find  them  still.  Among  barbarous  nations  mar- 
riage is  not  a  case  of  love,  but  of  capture  ;  among  the 
semi-barbarous  it  is  a  case  of  barter  ;  and  among  the 
imperfectly  civilized — among  whom  we  must  often  in- 
clude ourselves — a  matter  of  convention.  Tlie  second 
of  these,  the  purchase  system — a  slightly  evolved  form 
of  marriage  by  capture — is  probal)ly  one  through 
Avhich  all  human  Marriage  has  passed  ;  and  relics  of  it 
still  exist  in  the  dos  and  otlier  symbols  among  nations 
with  whom  the  custom  of  buying  a  bride  has  long 
since  passed  away.  By  degrading  the  object  of  barter 
to  the  level  of  a  chattel,  this  system  is  a  barrier  to 
high  affection.  But  in  most  cases  this  is  heightened 
by  the  impossibility  of  that  preliminary  courtship 
which  leads  to  mutual  knowledge  and  intelligent  love. 
The  bride  and  bridegroom,  in  the  extremer  cases,  meet 
as  total  strangers ;  and  though  alfcction  may  bud  in 


3U4  THE  EVOLUTION  OF  A  FATHER. 

after  years,  the  mingling  of  unknown  temperaments, 
together  with  the  destruction  of  reverence  for  woman 
by  treating  her  as  an  article  of  barter,  make  the 
chances  small  of  it  blossoming  into  a  flower. 

Courtshi[),  witli  its  vivid  perceptions  and  quickened 
emotions,  is  a  great  opportunity  for  Evolution  ;  and  to 
institute  and  lengthen  reasonably  a  period  so  rich  in 
impression  is  one  ot  its  latest  and  higliest  efforts.  To 
give  love  time,  indeed,  has  been  all  along,  and  through 
a  great  variety  of  arrangements,  the  chief  means  of 
establishing  it  on  the  earth.  Unfortunately,  the  lesson 
of  Nature  here  is  being  all  too  slowly  learned  even 
among  nations  with  its  open  book  before  them.  In 
some  of  the  greatest  of  civilized  countries,  real  mutual 
knowledge  between  the  youih  of  the  sexes  is  unattain- 
able ;  marriages  are  made  only  by  a  higher  kind  of 
jMirchase,  and  the  supreme  step  in  life  is  taken  in  the 
dark.  Whatever  safeguards  this  method  provides  it 
cannot  be  final,  nor  can  those  nations  rise  to  any  ex- 
alted social  heiglit  or  mor;il  greatness  till  some  change 
occurs.  It  has  been  given  especially  to  one  nation  to 
lead  the  world  in  its  assault  upon  this  mistaken  law, 
and  to  demonstrate  to  mankind  that  in  the  uncon- 
strained and  artless  relations  of  youth  lie  higher  safe- 
guards than  the  polite  conventions  of  society  can 
afford.  The  people  of  America  have  proved  that  the 
blending  of  the  sweet  currents  of  different  family-lives 
in  social  intercourse,  in  recreation,  and — most  original 
of  all — in  education,  can  take  place  freely  and  joyously 
without  any  sacrifice  of  man's  reverence  for  woman,  or 
woman's  reverence  for  herself;  and,  springing  out  of 
these  naturally  mingled  lives,  there  must  more  and 
more  come  those  sacred  and  happy  homes  which  are 


TUE  EVOLUTION  OF  A  FATHEIi.  305 

the  surest  guarantees  for  the  moral  progress  of  a 
nation.  So  long  as  the  first  concern  of  a  country  is 
for  its  homes,  it  matters  little  what  it  seeks  second  or 
third.  Long  before  Evolution  sliowed  its  scientific 
interest  in  this  first  social  aggregate,  and  proclaimed 
it  the  strategic  point  in  moral  progress,  poetry,  pliilos- 
ophy,  and  history  assigned  the  same  great  place  to 
Family-life.  The  one  point,  indeed,  where  all  students 
of  the  past  agree,  where  all  j^rophets  of  the  future 
meet,  wliere  all  the  sciences  from  biology  to  ethics  are 
enthusiastically  at  one,  is  in  their  faith  in  the  im- 
perishable potentialties  of  this  yet  most  simple  insti- 
tution. 

With  all  these  barriers  removed  it  miglit  now  be 
supposed  tiiat  the  process  was  at  last  complete. 
But  one  of  the  surprises  of  Evolution  here  awaits 
us.  All  the  arrangements  are  finished  to  fan  the  flame 
of  love,  yet  out  of  none  of  them  was  love  itself  be- 
gotten. Tlie  idea  that  the  existence  of  sex  accounts 
for  the  existence  of  love  is  untrue.  Marriage  among 
early  races,  as  we  have  seen,  has  notliing  to  do  with 
love.  Among  savage  peoples  the  phenomenon  evei-y- 
where  confronts  us  of  wedded  life  without  a  grain  of 
love  Love  clien  is  no  necessary  ingredient  of  the  sex 
relation  ;  it  is  not  an  outgrowth  of  passion.  Love  is 
love,  and  has  always  been  love,  and  has  never  been 
anything  lower.  Whence,  then,  came  it  ?  If  neither 
the  Husband  nor  the  Wife  bestowed  this  gift  upon  t'.ie 
world,  Wlio  did  ?  It  was  A  Little  Chikl.  Till  this 
ai)peared,  Man's  affection  was  non-existent  ;  Woman's 
was  frozen.  The  Man  did  not  love  the  Woman  ;  the 
Woman  did  not  love  the  Man.  But  one  day  from  its 
Mother's  very  heart,  from  a  shrine  which  her  husband 
20 


306  THE  EVOLUTION  OF  A  FATHER. 

never  visited  nor  knew  was  there,  which  she  herself 
f  dared  scarce  acknowledge,  a  Child  drew  forth  the  first 
j  fresh  bud  of  a  Love  which  Avas  not  passion,  a  Love 
.which  was  not  selfish,  a  Love  which  was  an  incense 
i  from  its  Maker,  and  whose  fragrance  from  that  hour  j 
( went  forth  to  sanctify  the  world.  Later,  long  later, ', 
I  through  the  same  tiny  and  unconscious  intermediary, 
■  the  father's  soul  was  touched.  And  one  day,  in  the 
love  of  a  little  child,  Father  and  Mother  met. 

That  this  is  the  true  lineage  of  love,  that  it  has 
descended  not  from  Husbands  and  Wives  but  through 
children,  is  proved  by  the  simplest  study  of  savage 
life.  Love  for  children  is  always  a  prior  and  a 
stronger  thing  than  love  between  Father  and  Mother, 
The  indifference  of  the  Husband  to  his  Wife — though 
often  greatly  exaggerated  by  anthropology — is  all  too 
manifest,  and  throughout  whole  regions  the  Wife  does 
not  love  but  only  fears  her  nusl)and.  For  the 
children  on  the  other  hand  both  parents  have  almost 
always  a  regard.  The  universality  of  a  Mother's  Love 
is  one  of  the  revelations  of  travel.  Even  among 
cannibals,  where  the  shocking  treatment  of  Wives  by 
their  Husbands  is  in  daily  evidence,  a  case  of  cruelty 
to  children  from  the  Mother's  side — apart  from  in- 
fanticide which  has  a  rationale  of  its  own — is  rarely 
heard  of.  The  status  of  children  if  not  ideal  forms  a 
most  striking  contrast  to  the  general  moral  and  social 
level  :  and  one  cannot  but  decide  that  they  have  been 
unconsciously  the  true  moral  teachers  of  the  world. 
Had  the  institution  of  the  Family  depended  on  Sex 
and  not  on  affection  it  would  probably  never  have 
endured  for  any  time.  Love  is  eternal  •,  Sex,  tran- 
sient.    Us  unl)vidl('(l  expression  in  individual  natui'es, 


THE  EVOL  UTIOJV  OF  A  FA  TIIER.  307 

and  its  recklessness  when  thwarted,  have  given  rise 
to  exaggerated  ideas  of  its  power.  In  all  uncontrolled 
forms,  however,  it  becomes  so  immediate  a  menace  to 
social  order,  that  if  it  does  not  die  out  in  self-destruc- 
tion it  is  checked  l)y  the  community  and  forced  into 
lawful  channels.  The  only  thing  that  could  hear  the 
heavy  burden  of  social  order  and  ada[)t  itself  to  every 
change  and  fresh  demand  was  the  indestructibly  solid 
yet  elastic,  strength  of  love.  The  care  and  culture 
of  love  therefore  became  thenceforth  the  first  great 
charge  of  Evolution,  and  every  obstruction  to  its  path 
began  to  be  swept  away.  Whatever  facilities  could 
further  its  career  were  gradually  adopted,  and  changes 
which  soon  began  to  pass  over  the  face  of  all  human 
societies  seemed  but  parts  of  one  great  conspiracy  to 
hasten  its  final  reign. 

For  a  prolonged  and  protective  Fatherhood,  once 
introduced  into  the  world,  was  immediately  taken 
charge  of  by  Xatural  Selection.  The  children  wno 
had  fathers  to  fight  for  them  grew  up  ;  those  which 
had  not,  were  killed  or  starved.  The  lengthening  of 
the  period  during  which  Father  and  Mother  kept  to- 
gether meant  double  protection  for  the  little  ones  ; 
and  the  more  the,y  kept  together  for  the  fiist  few 
days  or  weeks,  and  the  more  the  Father  helped  to 
defend  mother  and  child,  the  more  chance  for  all  three 
in  the  end.  The  picture  which  Koppenfells  draws  of 
the  female  Gorilla  and  her  young  ensconced  in  a  nest 
upon  the  fork  of  a  tree,  while  Gorilla  ph'e  sat  all 
night  at  the  foot  with  his  back  against  the  trunk 
to  protect  them  from  the  leopards,  is  a  fair  object- 
lesson  in  the  first  or  protective  stage  of  the  Father's 
Evolntion.      When  Man  passed,   however,  as  he  [)rob- 


308  THE  EVOLUTION  OF  A  FATHER. 

ably  did,  from  the  frugivorous  to  the  carnivorous 
state,  the  Fatlier  had  the  additional  responsibility  of 
keeping  his  family  in  food.  It  would  be  impossible 
for  a  Mother  to  hunt  for  game  and  attend  to  her 
young ;  and  for  a  long  time  the  young  themselves 
were  useless  in  the  chase,  and  must  be  entirely  de- 
pendent on  their  parents'  bounty.  But  this  means 
promotion  to  the  Father.  He  is  not  only  protector 
but  food-provider.  It  is  impossible  to  believe  that  in 
process  of  time  the  discharge  of  this  office  did  not 
bring  some  faint  satisfactions  to  himself,  that  the  mere 
sight  of  his  offspring  fed  instead  of  famished  did  not 
give  him  a  certain  pleasure.  /'And  though  the  pleasure 
at  first  may  hq,ve  been  no  more  than  the  absence  of 
the  annoyance'  they  caused  by  the  clamorousness  of 
their  want,  it  became  a  stimulus  to  exertion,  and  led 
in  the  end  to  rudimentary  forms  of  sympathy  and 
self-denial. 

Once  established  in  the  world  as  a  winning  force, 
love  could  only  yield  to  a  greater  force  than  itself  and 
greater  force  there  is  none.  In  the  hands  of  Natural 
Selection,  therefore,  it  ran  its  course.  Whatever  phys- 
iological adjustments  continued  to  go  on  beneath  the 
surface,  ethical  factors  now  determined  extinction  or 
survival.  Bad  parents  mean  starved  children,  and 
starved  children  will  be  replaced  in  the  Struggle  for 
Life  by  full-fed  children,  and  ere  a  few  generations 
parents  without  love  will  exist  no  more.  The  child, 
on  the  other  hand,  which  has  drunk  most  deeply  of 
its  Father's  or  its  Mother's  love  lives  to  hand  on  that 
which  has  spared  it  to  a  succeeding  race.  How  much 
of  affection  is  handed  on,  or  how  little,  matters  not, 
for  Heredity  works   with   the   finest   microscope,   and 


THE  EVOLUTIOX  OF  A   FATIIKR.  3U9 


sees,  and  seizes,  the  invisible.  In  a  second  child, 
reared  by  parents  one  degree  more  loving  than  the 
last,  this  ultimate  particle  of  love  will  grow  a  little 
more,  and  eacli  succeeding  Family  in  this  royal  line 
will  be  richer  in  the  elements  which  make  for  prog- 
ress than  the  last. 

When  we  reach  the  human  Family,  we  find  that 
this  simple  combination  was  already  strong  enough  to 
become  the  nucleus  of  the  social  and  national  life  of 
the  world.  For  the  moment  the  new  forces  of  Sym- 
pathy, Brotherhood,  Self-denial,  or  Love,  began  to 
work  among  the  isolated  units  which  made  up  primi- 
tive Man,  the  whole  composition  and  character  of  the 
aggregate  began  to  change.  Sooner  or  later  in  the 
recurring  necessities  of  savage  existence  there  came 
an  opportunity  for  the  members  of  the  first  combina- 
tion, the  litile  group  of  Father,  Mother,  and  Sons, 
to  act  together.  However  unworthily  this  primitive 
group  merited  the  name  of  Family,  there  was  here 
what  at  that  time  was  of  final  importance — the  ele- 
ments of  physical  strength.  He  who  formerly  stood 
alone  in  the  Struggle  for  Life  now  found  himself 
backed  on  occasion  by  an  inner  circle.  Those  who 
outside  this  circle  ventured  to  oppose  or  offend  an 
individual  within  it  had  the  Family  to  reckon  with. 
Ends  were  gained  by  the  new  alliance  which  were  un- 
attainable single-handed  by  anj'  individual  member  of 
the  tribe,  and  Avhether  enlisted  to  evade  disaster  or 
secure  a  prey,  to  I'esist  an  ni justice  or  avenge  a  wrong, 
the  odds  henceforth  and  always  were  in  favor  of  the 
combination.  When  it  is  remembei-ed  how,  owing  to 
the  comparative  equality  of  the,  competitoi's  in  the 
conflict   of    savage   existence,    even   an    infinitesimal 


310  THE  EVOLUTION  OF  A   FArilEB. 

advantag^e  on  one  side  or  the  other  determines  health 
or  starvation,  survival  or  extinction,  the  importance 
of  tlie  first  feeble  effort  at  federation  must  be  recog- 
nized. Slioa]d,er  to  shoulder  has  been  the  watchword 
all  through  history  of  national  development.  Almost 
fi-om  the  very  first,  indeed,  the  Family  and  not  tlie  in- 
dividual must  have  been  the  unit  of  Tribal  life  ;  and  as 
P^imilies  grew  more  and  more  definite,  they  became 
the  recognized  piers  of  the  social  sti'ucture  and  gave 
a  first  stability  to  the  race  of  men. 

But  great  as  are  the  physical  advantages  of  tlie 
Family,  the  ethical  uses,  even  in  the  early  days  of  its 
existence,  place  this  institution  at  the  head  of  all  the 
creations  of  Evolution.  For  the  Family  is  not  only 
its  greatest  creation,  but  its  greatest  instrument  for 
further  creation.  The  ethical  changes  begin  almost 
the  moment  it  is  formed.  One  immediate  effect,  for 
instance,  of  the  formation  of  Family  gi'oups  was  to 
take  off  from  any  single  individual  the  perpetual 
strain  of  the  Struggle  for  Life.  The  Family  as  a 
whole  must  sometimes  fight,  but  the  responsibility 
and  the  duty  are  now  distributed,  and  those  who  were 
once  solely  pre-occupied  with  the  personal  struggle 
will  have  respites,  during  which  other  things  will 
occupy  their  minds.  Attention  thus  called  oft"  from 
environing  enemies,  the  members  of  the  Family  will, 
as  it  were,  discover  one  another.  New  relations 
among  them  M'ill  spring  up,  new  adjustments  to  one 
another's  presence  and  to  one  another's  needs,  and 
hitherto  unknown  elements  of  character  Avill  be  grad- 
ually called  to  the  surface.  That  unselfishness,  in 
some  rude  form,  should  now  grow  up  is  a  necessity  of 
living  together.     A  man    cannot  be   a  member  of  a 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF  A  FATHER.  311 

Family  and  remain  an  utter  egoist.  His  interests  are 
perforce  divided,  and  tliougli  tlie  Family  group  is  a 
small  surface  for  unselfishness  to  spread  to  and  to 
practise  on,  no  greater  feat  could  as  yet  be  attempted, 
and  Evolution  never  runs  risks  of  too  rapid  develop- 
ment or  over-strain.  With  the  incorporation  of  the 
P^'amily  into  a  Clan  or  Tribe  the  area  will  presently 
be  extended,  and  the  necessity  of  controlling  self- 
interest  more  thoroughly,  or  merging  it  in  a  wider 
interest,  become  more  obligatory.  But  to  prepare  the 
altruistic  sentiment  for  so  great  an  abnegation,  the 
snnpler  disci[)line  of  the  Family  was  required.  How 
firmly  Families  in  time  became  welded  together  in 
mutual  interest  and  support,  and  how  much  crude 
Altruism  this  implies,  is  evident  from  the  place  of 
Family  feuds  and  the  power  of  great  Families  and 
Houses  both  in  ancient  and  modern  history.  A  strik- 
ing instance  is  the  Vendetta.  To  avenge  a  P\imily 
insult  in  countries  where  this  prevails  was  a  sacred 
duty  to  all  the  relatives,  and  even  the  last  surviving 
member  willingly  gave  up  his  life  to  vindicate  its 
honor.  So  strong  indeed  sometimes  has  grown  the 
power  of  individual  Families  that  the  more  desirable 
spread  of  Altruism  to  the  Nation  was  threatened,  and 
wider  interests  so  nuich  forgotten  that  the  J'amily 
became  the  enemy  of  the  State.  Nothing  could  more 
forcibly  show  the  tremendous  power  of  self-develop- 
ment contained  within  the  Family  circle,  and  the 
solidity  and  strength  to  which  it  can  grow,  than 
that,  time  after  time  in  history,  it  has  had  to  be 
crushed  and  broken  up  by  all  the  forces  of  the 
State. 

Amon^-  other  elements  in  human  nature  fostered  in 


312  7 HE  EVOLUTION  OF  A  FATHEB. 

the  Family  is  cne  of  exceptional  interest.  The  at- 
tempt has  been  made  to  show  that  from  the  inevitable 
relations  of  early  J'amily  life,  the  sense  of  Duty  first 
dawned  upon  the  world.  The  theme  is  too  great,  too 
intricate,  and  too  dangerous  to  open  under  the  limita- 
tions of  the  present  inquiiy,  for  these  deny  us  the 
appeal  to  Society,  to  Religion,  and  even  to  the  Con- 
science of  the  higher  Man.  But  it  is  due  to  the 
Father,  whose  Evolution  we  are  tracing,  that  the 
share  he  is  supposed  by  some  authorities  to  take  in  it, 
should  be  at  least  named. 

That  morality  in  general  has  something  to  do  with 
the  relations  of  people  to  one  another  is  evident,  as 
every  one  knows,  from  the  mere  derivation  of  the 
word.  Jlores,  morals,  are  in  the  first  instance  cus- 
toms, the  customs  or  ways  which  people  have  when 
they  are  together.  Now,  the  P'amily  is  the  first  occa- 
sion of  importance  where  we  get  people  together. 
And  as  there  are  not  only  a  number  of  people  in  a 
Family,  but  diti'erent  kinds  of  people,  tliere  will  be  a 
variety  in  the  relations  subsisting  between  them,  in 
the  customs  which  stereotype  the  most  frequently  re- 
peated actions  necessitated  by  these  relations,  and  in 
the  moods  and  attitudes  of  mind  accompanying  them. 
Leaving  out  of  sight  difterences  of  kind  among  broth- 
ers and  sisters,  consider  the  probably  more  divergent 
and  certainly  more  dominant  influences  of  Father  and 
Mother.  What  the  relation  of  child  to  JMother  has 
ci'ystallized  into  we  have  sufficiently  marked — it  is  a 
relation  of  direct  dependence,  and  its  product  is  Love. 
But  the  Father  is  a  wholly  dift'erent  influence.  What 
attitude  does  the  Child  take  up  in  this  austerer  pres- 
ence, and  what  ways  of  acting,  what  customs,  niores^ 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF  A   FATHER.  313 


morals,  are  engrained  in  the  child's  mind  through  it? 
The  acknowledged  position  of  the  Father  in  most  early 
tribes  is  head  of  the  Family.  To  the  children,  and 
generally  even  to  the  Mother,  he  represents  Author- 
ity, lie  is  the  children's  chief.  Bachoven  has  famil- 
iarized us  with  the  idea  of  a  Matriarchate,  or  JMaternal 
Family  ;  but  although  exceptional  tribes  have  given 
supremacy  to  the  JNIother,  the  rule  is  for  the  Father  to 
be  supreme.  As  head  of  the  Family,  therefore,  it  was 
his  business  to  make  the  Family  laws.  No  doubt  the 
Mother  also  made  laws  ;  but  the  P'ather,  as  the  more 
terrible  person,  exacted  obedience  with  greater  sever- 
ity, and  his  laws  acquired  more  force.  To  do  what 
was  pleasing  in  his  eyes  was  a  necessity  with  the 
children,  and  his  favor  or  his  frown  became  standards 
of  what  was  "  good "  and  what  was  "  bad."  Low  as 
this  standard  was — the  fear  or  favor  of  a  savage 
Father — it  was  a  begiiniing  of  right  mores,  good  con- 
duct, proper  manners.  Plant  in  the  mind,  or  evoke 
from  it,  the  idea  of  acting  in  a  given  way  with  refer- 
ence to  some  half-dozen  daily  trifles  when  done  in  the 
presence  of  one  authoritative  individual,  and  Evolu- 
tion has  already  found  something  to  work  on.  The 
children  have  got  six,  if  not  ten  commandments.  Ex- 
tend the  half-dozen  things  done  rightly  to  a  whole 
dozen,  and  then  to  a  score,  and  then  to  a  hundred ; 
and  let  it  become  habitual  to  do  these  things  rightly. 
When  the  right  doing  of  these  things  commends  the 
doer  to  one  person,  he  will  next  be  apt  to  connnend 
himself  by  similar  conduct  to  other  persons,  if  their 
standard  hai)pens  to  be  the  same.  Whether  good  be- 
havior purchases  favor  or  simply  succeeds  in  evading 
penalties  is  at  first  immaterial.     All  that  is  required, 


311  THE  EVOLUTION  OF  A  FATHER. 

under  whatevei'  sanctions,  is  that  some  standard  of 
good  or  bad  shall  arise.  No  abstract  sense  of  duty,  of 
course,  here  exists  ;  no  perfect  law  ;  it  is  a  purely  per- 
gonal and  local  code ;  but  the  word  duty  lias  at  least 
received  a  first  imperfect  meaning;  and  the  Father,  in 
some  rough  way,  forms  an  external  conscience  to 
those  beneath  him. 

Such  is  the  tentative  theory  of  the  advocates  of 
Evolutional  Ethics.  It  may  or  may  not  be  a  possible 
account  of  the  rise  of  a  sense  of  obligation,  but  it  is 
certain  that  it  does  not  account  for  the  whole  of  it. 
Why,  also,  that  particular  thing  should  be  elicited 
under  the  circumstances  described  is  an  unanswered 
question.  In  attempting  to  trace  its  rise,  no  rationale 
appears  of  its  origin ;  all  proofs,  in  short,  of  its  evolu- 
tion take  for  granted  its  previous  existence.  A  latent 
thing  has  become  active;  an  invisible  thing  has  be- 
come apparent.  In  one  sense  a  relation  has  been 
created,  in  another  sense  a  quality  in  that  relation 
has  been  revealed.  A  new  experiment  upon  human 
nature  has  been  tried;  a  new  discovery  of  its  prop- 
erties has  been  the  result. 

That  these  moral  elements,  on  the  other  hand,  must 
have  a  beginning  somewhere  in  space  and  time  is  cer- 
tain enough.  Not  less  necessary  to  the  world  than 
the  Mother's  gift  of  Love  is  the  twin  offering  of  the 
Father — Righteousness.  And  if,  almost  before  the 
soul  is  born,  the  shadowy  outline  of  a  moral  order 
should  begin  to  loom  out  in  history,  the  later  phases 
and  the  later  sanctions  lose  nothing  of  their  quality, 
are  all  the  more  wonderful  and  all  the  more  divine, 
because  met  by  moral  adumbrations  in  the  distant 
past.     If  the  later  children  had  their  ten  command- 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF  A  FATHER.  315 


ments  given  them  in  one  way,  they  cannot  grudge 
that  the  -world's  earlier  children  should  have  been 
given  their  two  or  three  commandments  in  another 
way — another  way  which,  nevertheless,  did  Ave  know 
all,  might  turn  out  to  be  but  another  phase  of  the 
same  way.  But  it  is  impossible  even  to  approach  the 
Evolution  of  Morality  until  we  have  carried  jMan  some 
stages  further  up  his  Ascent.  It  is  only  when  he 
reaches  the  social  stage,  when  he  becomes  aggregated 
into  clans,  tribes,  and  nations,  that  this  problem 
opens.  For  the  present  we  must  content  ourselves 
with  having  witnessed  his  arrival  in  the  Human 
Family — the  starting-point  and  threshold  of  the  true 
moral  life.  A 

For  a  long  time,  it  is  true,  the  Family  circle,  as  a 
circle,  was  incomplete.  Machinery  must  itself  evolve 
before  its  products  evolve.  Scarcely  defined  at  all, 
broken  as  soon  as  formed,  the  earlier  circles  allowed 
their  strongest  forces  to  escape  almost  at  the  moment 
they  generated.  But  the  walls  grew  higher  and 
higher  with  the  advance  of  history.  The  leakage 
became  less  and  less.  With  the  Christian  era  the 
machinery  was  complete ;  the  circle  finally  closed  in, 
and  became  a  secluded  shrine  where  the  culture  of 
everything  holy  and  beautiful  was  carried  on.  The 
path  by  which  this  ideal  consummation  was  reached 
was  not,  as  we  have  seen,  a  straight  path ;  nor  has  the 
integrity  of  the  institution  been  always  preserved 
through  the  later  centuries.  The  difficulty  of  realiz- 
ing the  ideal  may  be  judged  of  by  the  fewness  of  the 
nations  now  living  who  have  reached  it,  and  by  the 
multitude  of  peoples  and  tiil)es  who  have  vanished 
from  the  earth  without  attaining.     From  the  failure 


;nO  THE  EVOLUTION  OF  A   FATHER. 

to  fulfil  some  one  or  other  of  the  required  conditions 
people  after  people  and  nation  after  nation  have  come 
together  only  to  disperse,  and  leave  no  legacy  behind 
except  the  lesson — as  yet  in  few  cases  understood — of 
why  they  failed. 

Yet  whether  the  road  be  straight  or  devious  is  of 
little  moment.  The  one  significant  thing  is  that  it 
rises.  We  have  reached  a  stage  in  Evolution  at 
which  physiological  gains  are  guarded  and  accent- 
uated, if  not  in  an  ethical  interest,  at  least  by  eth- 
ical factors  becoming  utilized  by  natural  selection. 
Henceforth  affection  becomes  a  power  in  the  world ; 
and  whatever  physiological  adjustments  continue  to 
go  on  beneath  the  surface,  the  most  attached  Families 
will  have  a  better  chance  of  surviving  and  of  trans- 
mitting their  moral  characteristics  to  succeeding  gen- 
erations. The  completion  of  the  arch  of  Family  Life 
forms  one  of  the  great,  if  not  the  greatest  of  the  land- 
marks of  history.  '  If  the  crowning  work  of  Organic 
Evolution  is  the  Mammalia  ;  the  consummation  of 
the  Mammalia  is  the  Family.  Physically,  psychi- 
cally, ethically,  the  Family  is  the  masterpiece  of 
Evolution.  The  creation  of  Evolution,  it  was  destined 
to  become  the  most  active  instrument  and  ally  which 
Evolution  has  ever  had.  For  what  is  its  evolutionary 
significance?  It  is  the  generator  and  the  repository  of 
the  forces  which  alone  can  carry  out  the  social  and 
moral  progress  of  the  world.  There  they  rally  when 
they  become  enfeebled,  there  their  excesses  are  coun- 
terbalanced, and  thence  they  radiate  out,  refined  and 
reinforced,  to  do  their  holy  work. 

Looking  at  the  mere  dynamics  of  the  question,  the 
Family  contains  all  the  machinery,  and  nearly  all  the 


TUE  EVOLUTION  OF  A  FATHER.  317 

power,  for  the  moral  education  of  mankind.  Feebly, 
but  adequately,  in  the  early  chapters  of  Man's  history 
it  fulfilled  its  function  of  nursing  Love,  the  Mother  of 
all  morality ;  and  Righteousness,  the  Father  of  all 
morality,  so  preparing  a  parentage  for  all  the  beauti- 
ful spiritual  children  which  in  later  years  should 
spring  from  them.  If  life  henceforth  is  to  go  on  at 
all,  it  must  be  a  better  life,  a  more  loving  life,  a  more 
abundant  life;  and  this  premium  upon  Love  means — 
if  it  means  anything — that  Evolution  is  taking  hence- 
forth an  ethical  direction.  It  is  no  more  possible  to 
interpret  Xature  physically  from  this  point  than  to 
interpret  a  "Holy  Family  "  of  Raphaers  in  terms  of 
the  material  structure  of  canvas  or  the  qualities  of 
pigments.  Canvas  may  be  coarse  or  fine,  pigments 
may  bo  vegetable  or  mineral ;  but  whether  the  colors 
be  crushed  out  of  madder  or  ground  out  of  arsenic  or 
lead  is  of  no  importance  now.  Once  these  things 
were  important;  by  infinitely  slow  processes  Natui-e 
formed  them  ;  by  clever  arts  the  colorman  prepared 
them.  But  the  "Holy  Family"  did  not  lie  potentially 
in  the  madder-bud,  nor  in  the  earth  with  the  lead  and 
arsenic,  nor  in  the  laboratory  with  the  colorman.  He 
who  claims  Nature  for  Matter  and  Physical  force 
makes  the  same  assumption  that  these  would  do  if 
they  claimed  the  painting.  In  a  far  truer  sense  thnn 
Raphael  produced  his  "  Holy  Family "  Natui-e  has 
produced  a  Holy  Family.  Not  for  centuries  but  for  > 
millenniums  the  Family  has  survived.  Time  has  not  ] 
tarnished  it;  no  later  art  has  impi-oved  upon  it;  nor 
genius  discovered  anything  more  lovely  ;  nor  religion 
anything  more  divine.  From  the  bee's  cell  and  the 
butterflv's  wing  men  draw  what  thpv  rail  the  Argu- 


318  THE  EVOLUTION  OF  A  FATHER. 

merit  from  Design  ;  but  it  is  in  the  kingdoms  which 
come  "without  observation,  in  these  great  immaterial 
orderings  which  Science  is  but  beginning  to  perceive, 
hat  the  purposes  of  Creation  are  revealed. 


CHAPTER  X.  ^ 

INVOLUTION. 

Maistt  years  ago,  in  the  clay  which  in  every  part  of 
the  world  is  found  underlying  beds  of  coal,  a  peculiar 
fossil  was  discovered  and  named  by  science  Stigmaria. 
It  occurred  in  great  abundance  and  in  many  countries, 
and  from  the  strange  way  in  which  it  ramified 
through  the  clay  it  was  supposed  to  be  some  extinct 
variety  of  a  gigantic  water-weed.  In  the  coal  itself 
another  fossil  was  discovered,  almost  as  abundant  but 
far  more  beautiful,  and  from  the  exquisite  carving 
which  ornamented  its  fluted  stem  it  received  the  name 
of  Sigillaria.  One  day  a  Canadian  geologist,  studying 
Sigillaria  in  the  field,  made  a  new  discovery.  Finding 
the  trunk  of  a  Sigillaria  standing  erect  in  a  bed  of 
coal,  he  traced  the  column  downwards  to  the  clay 
beneath.  To  his  surprise  he  found  it  ended  in  Stig- 
maria.  This  branching  fossil  in  the  clay  was  no 
longer  a  water-weed.  It  was  the  root  of  which  Sigil 
laria  was  the  stem,  and  the  clay  was  the  soil  in  which 
the  great  coal-plant  grew. 

Through  many  chapters,  often  in  the  dark,  every- 
where hampered  by  the  clay,  we  have  been  working 
among  roots.    Of  what  are  they  the  roots  ?    '^Fo  what 

319 


320  TNVOLUTTOy. 


order  do  they  belong?  By  what  process  have  they 
grown  ?  What  connection  have  they  with  tlie  reahn 
above,  or  tlie  realm  beneath  ?  Is  it  a  Stigmaria  or  a 
Sigillaria  world  ? 

Till  yesterday  Science  did  not  recognize  them  even 
as  roots.  They  were  classified  apart.  They  led  to 
nothing.  No  organic  connection  was  known  between 
lower  Nature  and  that  wholly  separate  and  all  but 
antagonistic  realm,  the  higher  world  of  Man.  Atoms, 
cells,  plants,  animals  were  the  material  products  of  a 
separate  creation,  the  clay  from  which  Man  took  his 
clay-l)ody,  and  no  more.  The  higher  world,  also,  was 
a  system  by  itself.  It  rose  out  of  nothing;  it  rested 
upon  nothing.  Clay,  where  the  roots  lay,  was  the 
product  of  inorganic  forces;  Coal,  which  enshrined 
the  tree,  was  a  creation  of  the  sunlight.  What  fellow- 
ship had  light  with  darkness  ?  What  possible  connec- 
tion could  exist  between  that  beautiful  organism 
which  stood  erect  in  the  living,  and  that  which  lay 
prone  in  the  dead  ?  Yet,  by  a  process  doubly  verified, 
the  organic  connection  between  these  two  has  now 
been  traced.  Working  upwards  through  the  clay  the 
biologist  finds  what  he  took  to  be  an  organism  of  the 
clay  leaving  his  domain  and  passing  into  a  world 
above — a  world  which  he  had  scarcely  noticed  before, 
and  into  which,  with  such  instruments  as  he  employs, 
he  cannot  follow  it.  Working  downward  through  the 
higher  world,  the  psychologist,  the  moralist,  the  soci- 
ologist, behold  the  even  more  wonderful  spectacle  of 
the  things  they  had  counted  a  peculiar  possession  of 
the  upper  kingdom,  burying  themselves  in  ever  at- 
tenuating forms  in  the  clay  beneath.  W^hat  is  to  be 
made  of  this  discovery"/     Once  more,  Is  it  a  Stigmaria 


INVOLUTION.  321 


or  a  Sigillaria  world  ?  Is  the  biologist  to  give  up  his 
clay  or  the  moralist  his  higher  kingdom  ?  Are  Mind, 
Morals,  Men,  to  he  interpreted  in  terms  of  roots,  or 
are  atoms  and  cells  to  be  judged  by  the  flowers  and 
fruits  of  the  tree  ? 

Tlie  first  fruit  of  the  discovery  must  be  that  each 
shall  explore  with  new  respect  the  other's  world,  and, 
instead  of  delighting  to  accentuate  their  contrasts, 
strive  to  magnify  their  infinite  harmonies.  Old  as  is 
the  world's  vision  of  a  cosmos,  and  universal  as  has 
been  its  dream  of  the  unity  of  Xature,  neither  has 
ever  stood  before  the  imagination  complete.  Poetry 
felt,  but  never  knew,  that  the  universe  was  one; 
Biology  perceived  the  jji-ofound  chemical  balance 
between  tlie  inorganic  and  organic  kingdoms,  and  no 
more ;  Physics,  discovering  the  correlation  of  forces, 
constructed  a  cosmos  of  its  own ;  Astronomy,  through 
the  law  of  gravitation,  linked  us,  but  mechanicalh^ 
with  the  stars.  But  it  was  reserved  for  Evolution  to  "^ 
make  the  final  revelation  of  the  unity  of  the  world,  to 
comprehend  everything  under  one  generalizatioii,  to 
explain  everything  by  one  great  end.  Its  omnipresent 
eye  saw  every  phenomenon  and  every  law.  It 
gathered  all  that  is  and  has  been  into  one  last  whole 
■ — a  whole  wliose  vei-y  perfection  consists  in  the  all 
but  infinite  distinctions  of  the  things  whicli  it  unites. 

What  is  often  dreaded  in  Evolution, — the  danger  of 
obliterating  distinctions  that  are  vital — is  a  ground- 
less fear.  Stigmaria  can  never  bo  anything  more  than 
root,  and  Sigillaria  can  never  be  anything  less  than 
stem.  To  show  their  connection  is  not  to  transpose 
their  properties.  The  wider  the  distinctions  seen 
among  their  properties  the  profoundcr  is  the  Thought 


21 


322  IN  VOL  UTION. 


wliicli  unites  them,  the  more  rich  and  rational  the 
Cosmos  which  comprehends  tliem.  For  "the  unity 
which  we  see  in  Nature  is  that  kind  of  Unity  which 
the  Mind  recognizes  as  the  result  of  operations  similar 
to  its  own — not  a  unity  which  consists  in  mere  same- 
ness of  material,  or  in  mere  identity  of  composition, 
or  in  mere  uniformity  of  structure  ;  but  a  unity  which 
consists  in  the  subordination  of  all  these  to  similar 
aims,  not  to  similar  principles  of  action — that  is  to 
say,  in  like  methods  of  yoking  a  few  elementary  forces 
to  the  discharge  of  special  functions,  and  to  the  pro- 
duction, by  adjustment,  of  one  harmonious  whole."  ^ 

Yet  did  Sigillaria  grow  out  of  Stigmaria?  Did  Mind, 
Morals,  jMen,  evolve  out  of  Matter  ?  Surely  if  one  is 
the  tree  and  the  other  the  root  of  that  tree,  and  if 
Evolution  means  the  passage  of  the  one  into  the  other, 
there  is  no  escape  from  this  conclusion — no  escape 
therefore  from  the  crassest  materialism  ?  If  this  is 
really  the  situation,  the  lower  must  then  include  the 
higher,  and  Evolution,  after  all,  be  a  process  of  tlie 
clay?  This  is  a  frequent,  a  natural,  and  a  wholly 
unreflecting  inference  from  a  very  common  way  of 
stating  the  Evolution  theory.  It  arises  from  a  total 
misconception  of  what  a  root  is.  Because  a  thing  is 
seen  to  have  roots,  it  is  assumed  that  it  has  grown  out 
of  these  roots,  and  must  therefore  belong  to  the  root- 
order.  But  neither  of  these  things  is  true  in  Nature. 
Are  the  stem, branch,  leaf,  flower,  fruit  of  a  tree  roots:' 
Do  they  belong  to  the  root-order?  They  do  noti. 
Their  whole  morphology  is  different ;  their  whole 
physiology  is  different ;  their  reactions  upon  the  world 
around  are  different.  But  it  must  be  allowed  that 
^  Duke  of  Argyll,  The  Unity  of  Nature,  p.  44. 


INVOLUTION.  323 


they  are  at  least  contained  in  the  root?  No  single  one 
of  them  is  contained  in  the  root.  If  not  in  the  root, 
then  in  the  clay  ?  Neither  are  they  contained  in  the 
clay.  But  they  grow  out  of  clay,  are  they  not  made 
out  of  clay  ?  They  do  not  grow  out  of  clay,  and  they 
are  not  made  out  of  clay.  It  is  astounding  sometimes 
how  little  those  who  venture  to  criticise  biological 
processes  seem  to  know  of  its  simplest  facts.  Fill  a 
flower-pot  with  clay,  and  plant  in  it  a  seedling.  At  the 
end  of  four  years  it  has  become  a  small  tree  ;  it  is  six 
feet  high  ;  it  weighs  ten  pounds.  But  the  clay  in  the 
pot  is  still  there  ?  A  moiety  of  it  has  gone,  but  it  is 
not  appreciably  diminished ;  it  has  not,  excejjt  the 
moiety,  passed  into  the  tree ;  the  tree  does  not  live  on 
clay  nor  on  any  force  contained  in  the  clay.  It  cannot 
have  grown  out  of  the  seedling,  for  the  seedling  contained 
but  a  grain  for  every  pound  contained  in  the  tree.  It 
cannot  have  grown  from  the  root,  because  the  root  is 
there  now,  has  lost  nothing  to  the  tree,  has  itself  gained 
from  the  tree,  and  at  first  was  no  more  there  than 
the  tree. 

Sigillaria,  then,  as  representing  the  ethical  order, 
did  not  grow  out  of  Stigmaria  as  representing  the 
organic  or  the  material  order.  Trees  not  only  do  not 
evolve  out  of  their  roots,  but  whole  classes  in  the 
plant  world — the  sea-weeds  for  instance — have  no  roots 
at  all.  If  any  possible  relation  exists  it  is  exactly 
the  opposite  one — it  is  the  root  which  evolves  from  tlie 
tree.  Trees  send  down  roots  in  a  far  truer  sense  than 
roots  send  up  trees.  Yet  neither  is  the  whole  truth. 
The  true  function  of  the  root  is  to  give  stability  to  the 
tree,  and  to  afford  a  medium  for  conveying  into  it 
inorganic    matter    fiTtm   witliniit.      Ancl    this   brings    us 


324  INVOLUTION. 


face  to  face  with  the  real  relation.  Tree  and  root — the 
seed  apart — find  their  explanation  not  in  one  another 
nor  in  something  in  themselves,  bnt  mainly  in  some- 
thing outside  themselves.  The  secret  of  Evolution  lies, 
in  short,  with  the  Environment.  In  the  Environment, 
in  that  in  which  things  live  and  move  and  have 
their  being,  is  found  the  secret  of  their  being,  and 
especially  of  their  becoming.  And  what  is  that  in 
which  things  live  and  move  and  have  their  being  ?  It 
is  Nature,  the  world,  the  cosmos — and  something 
more,  some  One  more,  an  Infinite  Intelligence  and  an 
Eternal  Will.  Everything  that  lives,  lives  iu  virtue 
of  its  correspondences  with  this  Environment.  Evolu- 
tion is  not  to  unfold  from  within  ;  it  is  to  infold  from 
without.  Growth  is  no  mere  extension  from  a  root 
but  a  taking  possession  of,  or  a  being  possessed  by,  an 
ever  widening  Environment,  a  continuous  process  of 
assimilation  of  the  seen  or  Unseen,  a  ceaseless  re-dis- 
tribution of  energies  flowing  into  the  evolving  organ- 
ism from  the  Universe  around  it.  The  supreme  factor 
in  all  development  is  Environment.  Half  the  con- 
fusions which  reign  round  the  process  of  Evolution, 
and  half  the  objections  to  it,  arise  from  considering 
the  evolving  object  as  a  self-sufficient  whole.  Produce 
an  organism,  plant,  animal,  man,  society,  which  will 
evolve  in  vacuo  and  the  right  is  youis  to  say  that  the 
tree  lies  in  the  root,  the  flower  in  the  bud,  the  man  in 
the  embryo,  the  social  organism  in  the  family  of  an 
anthropoid  ape.  If  an  organism  is  to  be  judged  in 
terms  of  the  immediate  Environment  of  its  roots,  the 
tree  is  a  clay  tree ;  but  if  it  is  to  be  judged  by  stem, 
leaves,  fruit,  it  is  not  a  clay  tree.  If  the  moral  or 
social  organism  is  to  be  judged  in  terms  of  the  Envi- 


INVOLUTION.  325 


ronment  of  its  roots,  the  monil  and  social  organism  is 
a  material  organism  ;  but  if  it  is  to  be  judged  in  terms 
of  the  higher  influences  which  enter  into  the  making 
of  its  stem,  leaves,  fruit,  it  is  not  a  material  organism. 
Everything  that  lives,  and  every  part  of  everything 
that  lives,  enters  into  relation  with  different  parts  of 
the  Environment  and  with  different  things  in  the 
Environment ;  and  at  every  step  of  its  Ascent  it  com- 
passes new  ranges  of  the  Environment,  and  is  acted 
upon,  and  acts,  in  different  ways  from  those  in  which 
it  was  acted  upon,  or  acted,  at  the  previous  stage. 

For  what  is  most  of  all  essential  to  remember  is 
that  not  only  is  Environment  the  prime  factor  in  de- 
velopment, but  that  the  Environment  itself  rises  with 
every  evolution  of  any  form  of  life.  To  regard  the 
Environment  as  a  fixed  quantity  and  a  fixed  quality 
is,  next  to  ignoring  tlie  altruistic  factor,  the  cardinal 
error  of  evolutional  philosophy.  With  every  step  a 
climber  rises  up  a  mountain  side  his  Environment 
must  change.  At  a  thousand  feet  the  air  is  lighter 
and  purer  than  at  a  hundred,  and  as  the  effect  varies 
with  the  cause,  all  the  reactions  of  the  air  upon  his 
body  are  altered  at  the  higher  level.  His  pulse 
quickens ;  his  spirit  grows  more  buoyant ;  the  en- 
ergies of  tlie  upper  world  flow  in  upon  him.  All  the 
other  phenomena  change — the  plants  are  Alpine,  the 
animals  are  a  hardier  race,  the  temperature  falls, 
the  very  world  he  left  beiiind  wears  a  different  look. 
At  three  thousand  feet  the  causes,  the  effects,  and 
the  phenomena  change  again.  The  horizon  is  wider, 
the  light  intenser,  the  air  colder,  the  top  nearer ; 
the  nether  world  recedes  from  view.  At  six  thousand 
feet,    if    we    may  accentuate    the    illustration    till    it 


536  INVOLUTION. 


contains  more  of  the  emphasis  of  the  reality,  he 
enters  the  region  of  snow.  Here  is  a  change  brought 
about  by  a  small  and  perfectly  natural  rise  which 
yet  amounts  to  a  revolution.  Another  thousand  feet 
and  there  is  another  revolution — he  is  usliered  into 
the  domain  of  mist.  Still  another  thousand,  and 
the  climax  of  change  has  come.  He  stands  at  the 
top,  and,  behold,  the  Sun.  None  of  the  things  he 
has  encountered  in  his  progress  toward  the  top  are 
new  things.  They  are  the  normal  phenomena  of  alti- 
tude— the  scenes,  the  energies,  the  correspondences, 
natural  to  the  higher  slopes.  He  did  not  create  any 
of  these  things  as  he  rose ;  they  were  not  created  as 
he  rose;  they  did  not  lie  potentially  in  the  plains  or  in 
the  mountain  foot.  What  has  happened  is  simply 
that  in  rising  he  has  encountered  them — some  for  the 
first  time,  which  are  therefore  wholly  new  to  him ; 
others  which,  though  known  before,  now  flow  into  his 
being  in  such  fuller  measure,  or  enter  into  such  fresh 
relations  among  themselves,  or  with  the  changed 
being  which  at  every  step  he  has  become,  as  to  be 
also  practically  new. 

Man,  in  his  long  pilgrimage  upwards  from  the  clay, 
passes  through  regions  of  ever-varying  character. 
Each  breath  drawn  and  utilized  to  make  one  upward 
step  brings  him  into  relation  with  a  fractionally 
higher  air,  a  fractionally  ditferent  world.  The  new 
energies  he  there  receives  are  utilized,  and  in  virtue  of 
them  he  rises  to  a  third,  and  from  a  third  to  a  fourth. 
As  in  the  animal  kingdom  the  senses  open  one  by  one 
— the  eye  progressing  from  the  mere  discernment  of 
light  and  darkness  to  the  blurred  image  of  things 
near,  and  then  to  clearer  vision  of  the  more  remote  ; 


INVOLUTION.  327 


the  ear  passing  from  the  tremulous  sense  of  vibration 
to  distinguish  with  ever-increasing  delicacy  the 
sounds  of  far-off  tilings — so  in  the  higher  world  the 
moral  and  spiritual  senses  rise  and  quicken  till  they 
compass  qualities  unknown  before  and  impossible  to 
the  limited  faculties  of  the  earlier  life.  So  Man,  not 
by  any  innate  tendency  to  progress  in  himself,  nor  by 
the  energies  inherent  in  the  protoplasmic  cell  from 
which  he  first  set  out,  but  by  a  continuous  feeding  and 
reinforcing  of  the  process  from  without,  attains  the 
higher  altitudes,  and  from  the  sense-world  at  the 
mountain  foot  ascends  with  ennobled  and  ennobling 
faculties  until  he  greets  the  Sun. 

What  is  the  Environment  of  the  Social  tree  ?  It  is 
all  the  things,  and  all  the  persons,  and  all  the  in- 
fluences, and  all  the  forces  with  which,  at  each  suc- 
cessive stage  of  progress,  it  enters  into  correspond- 
ence. And  this  Environment  inevitably  expands  as 
the  Social  tree  expands  and  extends  its  correspond- 
ences. At  the  savage  stage  Man  compasses  one  set 
of  relations,  at  the  rude  social  stage  another,  at  the 
civilized  stage  a  third,  and  each  has  its  own  re- 
actions. The  social,  the  moral,  and  the  religious 
forces  beat  upon  all  social  beings  in  the  order  in  which 
the  capacities  for  them  unfold,  and  according  to  the 
measure  in  which  the  capacities  themselves  are  fitted 
to  contain  tliem.  And  from  what  ultimate  source  do 
they  come  ?  There  is  only  one  source  of  everything 
in  the  Avorld.  Tliey  come  from  tlie  same  source  as  the 
Carbonic  Acid  Gas,  the  Oxygen,  the  Nitrogen,  and  the 
Va[)()r  of  Wat(n-,  which  from  the  outer  world  enter 
into  the  growing  plant.  I'heso  also  visit  the  plant  in 
the  order  in  which  the  capacities  for  them  unfold,  and 


328  INVOLUTION. 


according  to  the  measure  in  wliich  these  capacicies  can 
contain  them. 

The  fact  that  the  higher  principles  come  from  the 
same  Environment  as  those  of  tlie  phant,  neverthe- 
less does  not  imply  that  they  are  the  same  as  those 
which  enter  into  the  plant.  In  the  plant  they  are 
physical,  in  Man  spiritual.  If  anything  is  to  he  im- 
plied it  is  not  that  the  spiritual  energies  are  physical, 
but  that  the  physical  energies  are  spiritual.  To  call 
the  things  in  the  physical  world  "  material  "  takes  us 
no  nearer  the  natural,  no  further  away  from  the 
spiritual.  The  roots  of  a  tree  may  rise  from  what 
we  call  a  physical  world ;  the  leaves  may  be  bathed 
by  physical  atoms ;  even  the  energy  of  tlie  tree  may 
be  solar  energy,  but  the  tree  is  itself.  The  tree  is  a 
Thought,  a  unity,  a  rational  purposeful  whole ;  the 
"  matter "  is  but  the  medium  of  their  expression. 
Call  it  all — matter,  energy,  tree — a  physical  produc- 
tion, and  have  we  yet  touched  its  ultimate  reality  ? 
Are  we  even  quite  sure  that  what  we  call  a  phys- 
ical world  is,  after  all,  a  physical  world?  The  pre- 
ponderating view  of  science  at  present  is  that  it 
is  not.  The  very  term  "■  material  world,"  we  are 
told,  is  a  misnomer;  that  the  world  is  a  spiritual 
world,  merely  employing  "  matter"  for  its  manifesta- 
tions. 

But  surely  there  is  still  a  fallacy.  Are  not  these  so- 
called  social  forces,  the  efifect  of  Society  and  not  its 
cause  ?  Has  not  Society  to  generate  them  before  they 
regenerate  Society  ?  True,  but  to  generate  is  not  to 
create.  Society  is  machinery,  a  medium  for  the 
transmission  of  energy,  but  no  more  a  medium  for  its 
creation  than  a  steam  engine  is  for  the  creation  of  its 


lyVOLUTION.  329 


energy.  Whence  then  the  social  energies  ?  The 
answer  is  as  before.  Whence  the  physical  energies? 
And  Science  has  only  one  answer  to  that.  "  Consider 
the  position  into  which  Science  has  brought  us.  We 
are  led  by  scientific  logic  to  an  unseen,  and  by  scienti- 
fic analogy  to  the  spirituality  of  this  unseen.  In  line, 
our  conclusion  is,  that  the  visible  universe  has  been 
developed  by  an  intelligence  resident  in  the  Unseen."^ 
There  is  only  one  theory  of  the  method  of  Creation  in 
the  field,  and  that  is  Evolution ;  but  there  is  only  one 
theory  of  origins  in  tlie  field,  and  tliat  is  Creation. 
Instead  of  abolishing  a  creative  Hand,  Evolution  de- 
mands it.  Instead  of  being  opposed  to  Creation,  all 
theories  of  Evolution  begin  by  assuming  it.  If  Science 
does  not  formally  posit  it,  it  never  posits  anything 
less.  "The  doctrine  of  Evolution,"  writes  Mr.  Huxley, 
"is  neither  theistic  nor  anti-theistic.  It  has  no  more 
to  do  with  tlieism  than  the  first  book  of  Euclid  has. 
It  does  not  even  come  in  contact  with  theism  con- 
sidered as  a  scientific  doctrine,"  But  when  it  touches 
the  question  of  origins,  it  is  either  theistic  or  silent. 
"  Behind  the  co-operating  forces  of  Nature,"  says 
Weismann,  "  which  aim  at  a  purpose,  we  must  admit 
a  cause,  .  .  .  inconceivable  in  its  nature,  of  which 
we  can  only  say  one  tiling  with  certainty,  that  it  must 
be  theological." 

The  fallacy  of  the  merely  quantitative  theory  of 
Evolution  is  apparent.  To  interpret  any  organism  in 
terms  of  tlie  organism  solely  is  to  omit  reference  to 
tlie  main  instrument  of  its  Evolution,  and  therefore  to 
leave   the   process,   scientifically    and  philosophically, 

1  Balfour  Stt'wurt  and  Tait,  TJie  Unaccn  Universe,  Clh  edi.ion, 
p.  221. 


880  INVOLUTION. 


unexplained.  It  is  as  if  one  were  to  construct  a  theory 
of  the  career  of  a  millionaire  in  terms  of  the  pocket- 
money  allowed  him  when  a  schoolboy.  Disregard  the 
fact  that  more  pocket-money  was  allowed  the  school- 
boy as  he  passed  from  the  first  form  to  the  sixth ;  that 
his  allowance  was  increased  as  he  came  of  age ;  that 
now,  being  a  man,  not  a  boy,  he  was  capable  of  more 
wisely  spending  it ;  that  being  wise  he  put  his  money 
to  paying  uses;  and  that  interest  and  capital  were  in- 
vested and  re-invested  as  years  went  on — disregard 
all  this  and  you  cannot  account  for  the  rise  of  the  mill- 
ionaire. As  well  construct  the  millionaire  from  the 
potential  gold  contained  in  his  first  sixpence — a  six- 
pence which  never  left  his  pocket — as  construct  a 
theory  of  the  Evolution  of  Man  from  the  protoplasmic 
cell  apart  from  its  Environment.  It  is  only  when  in- 
terpreted, not  ill  terms  of  himself,  but  in  terms  of 
Environment,  and  of  an  Environment  increasingly 
appropriated,  quantitatively  and  qualitatively,  with 
each  fresh  stage  of  the  advance,  that  a  consistent 
theory  is  possible,  or  that  the  true  nature  of  Evolu- 
tion can  appear. 

A  child  does  not  grow  out  of  a  child  by  'spon- 
taneous unfold ings.  The  process  is  fed  from  with- 
out. The  body  assimilates  food,  tlie  mind  assimi- 
lates books,  the  moral  nature  draws  upon  affection, 
the  religious  faculties  nourish  the  higher  being  from 
Ideals.  Time  brings  not  only  more  things,  but  new 
tilings  ;  the  higher  nature  inaugurates  possession 
of,  or  by,  tlie  higher  order.  "  It  lies  in  the  very 
nature  of  the  case  that  the  earliest  form  of  that 
which  lives  and  develops  is  the  least  adequate  to 
its   nature,   and   therefore   that   from   which   we  can 


IXVOLUTIOX.  331 


get  the  least  distinct  clue  to  the  inner  principle 
of  that  nature.  Hence  to  trace  a  living  being  back 
to  its  beginning,  and  to  explain  what  follows  by 
such  beginning,  would  be  simpl}'  to  omit  almost 
all  tliat  cluiracterizes  it,  and  then  to  suppose  tliat  in 
what  remains  we  have  the  secret  of  its  existence. 
That  is  not  really  to  explain  it,  but  to  explain 
it  away;  for  on  this  method,  we  necessarily  re- 
duce the  features  that  distinguish  it  to  a  minimum, 
and,  when  we  liave  done  so,  the  remainder  may 
well  seem  to  be  itself  reducible  to  something  in 
which  the  principle  in  question  does  not  mani- 
fest itself  at  all.  If  we  carry  the  animal  back 
to  protoplasm,  it  may  readily  seem  possible  to  ex- 
plain it  as  a  chemical  compound.  And,  in  like 
manner,  by  the  same  minimizing  process,  we  may 
seem  to  succeed  in  reducing  consciousness  and 
self-consciousness  in  its  simplest  form  to  sensation, 
and  sensation  in  its  simplest  form  to  something 
not  essentially  different  from  the  nutritive  life  of 
plants.  The  fallacy  of  the  sorites  may-  thus  be 
used  to  conceal  all  qualitative  changes  under  the 
guise  of  quantitative  addition  or  diminution,  and 
to  bridge  over  all  difference  by  the  idea  of  gradual 
transition.  For,  as  the  old  school  of  etymologists 
showed,  if  we  are  at  libert}'^  to  interpose  as  many 
connecting  links  as  we  please,  it  becomes  easy  to 
imagine  that  things  the  most  heterogeneous  should 
spring  out  of  each  other.  While,  however,  the  liy- 
pothesis  of  gradual  change — change  proceeding  by 
infinitesimal  stages  which  melt  into  each  other  so 
that  the  eye  cannot  detect  where  one  begins  and  the 
other  ends — makes  such  a  transition  easier  for  imagi- 


332  JWOLUTIOX. 


nation,  it  does  nothing  to  diminish  the  difficulty  or 
tlie  wonder  of  it  for  thought.''''  ^ 

Tlie  value  of  philosophical  criticism  to  science  has 
seldom  appeared  to  more  advantage  than  in  these 
words  of  the  Master  of  Balliol.  The  following  passage 
from  Martineau  may  be  fitly  placed  beside  them  : — 
"  In  not  a  few  of  the  progressionists  the  weak  illusion 
is  unmistakable,  that,  with  time  enough,  you  may  get 
everything  out  of  next  to  nothing.  Grant  us,  they 
seem  to  say,  any  tiniest  granule  of  power,  so  close  up- 
on zero  that  it  is  not  worth  begrudging — allow  it  some 
trifling  tendency  to  infinitesimal  movement — and  we 
\Yill  show  you  how  this  little  stock  became  the 
kosmos,  without  ever  taking  a  step  worth  thinking 
of,  much  less  constituting  a  case  for  design.  The 
argument  is  a  mere  appeal  to  an  incompetency  in  the 
human  imagination,  in  virtue  of  which  magnitudes 
evading  conception  are  treated  as  out  of  existence ; 
and  an  aggregate  of  inappreciable  increments  is  simul- 
taneously equated, — in  its  cause  to  nothing,  in  its 
effect  to  the  whole  of  things.  You  manifestly  want 
the  same  causality,  whether  concentrated  in  a 
moment  or  distributed  through  incalculable  ages ; 
only  in  drawing  upon  it  a  logical  theft  is  more 
easily  committed  piecemeal  than  wholesale.  Surely  it 
is  a  mean  device  for  a  philosopher  thus  to  crib  causa- 
tion by  hairs-breadths,  to  put  it  out  at  compound 
interest  through  all  time,  and  then  disown  the  debt."  ^ 

It  is  not  said  that  the  view  here  given  of  the  process 
of  Evolution  has  beciu  the  actual  process.  The  illus- 
trations have  been  developed  ratlier  to   clear  up  dif- 

1  Edward  Caird,  The  Evolution  of  lielif/ion,  Vol.  i.,  pp.  49-50. 

2  Martineau,  Essays,  Philosophical  and  Theological,  p.  141. 


lyVOLUTION.  333 


ficulties  than  to  state  a  theory.  The  time  is  not  ripe 
for  daring-  to  present  to  our  imaginations  even  a  par- 
tial view  of  ^Yllat  that  transcendent  process  may  have 
been.  At  present  we  can  only  take  our  ideas  of 
growth  from  the  growing  things  around  us,  and  in 
this  analogy  we  have  tal\en  no  account  of  the  most 
essential  fact — the  seed.  Nor  is  it  asserted,  far  as  these 
illustrations  point  in  that  direction,  that  the  course 
of  Evolution  has  been  a  continuous,  uninterrupted, 
upward  rise.  On  the  whole  it  has  certainly  been  a 
rise;  but  whether  a  rise  witliout  lea[)  or  break  or 
pause,  or — what  is  more  likely — a  progress  in 
rhythms,  pulses,  and  waves,  or — wliat  is  unlikely — a 
cataclysmal  ascent  by  steps  abrupt  and  steej),  may 
possibly  never  be  proved. 

There  are  reverent  minds  who  ceaselessly  scan  the 
fields  of  Nature  and  the  books  of  Science  in  search  of 
gaps — gaps  which  they  will  fill  up  witli  God.  As  if 
God  lived  in  gaps?  What  view  of  Nature  or  of 
Truth  is  theirs  whose  interest  in  Science  is  not  in 
what  it  can  explain  but  in  what  it  cannot,  whoSse  quest 
is  ignorance  not  knowledge,  whose  daily  dread  is  that 
the  cloud  may  lift,  and  who,  as  darkness  melts  from 
this  field  or  from  that,  begin  to  tremble  for  the  place 
of  His  abode?  Wliat  needs  altering  in  such  finely 
jealous  souls  is  at  once  their  view  of  Nature  and  of 
God.  Nature  is  God's  writing,  and  can  only  tell  the 
truth ;  God  is  liglit,  and  in  Ilim  is  no  darkness  at  all. 

If  by  the  accumulation  of  irresistible  evidence  we 
are  driven — may  not  one  say  permitted — to  accept 
Evolution  as  God's  method  in  creation,  it  is  a  mistaken 
policy  to  glory  in  what  it  cannot  account  for.  The 
reason  why  men  grudge  to  Evolution  each  of  its  fresh 


334  INVOLUTION. 


claims  to  show  how  things  have  been  made  is  the 
groundless  fear  that  if  we  discover  how  they  are  made 
we  minimize  their  divinity.  When  things  are  known, 
that  is  to  say,  we  conceive  them  as  natural,  on  Man's 
level ;  when  they  are  unknown,  we  call  them  divine — 
as  if  our  ignorance  of  a  thing  were  the  stamp  of  its 
divinity.  If  God  is  only  to  be  left  to  the  gaps  in  our 
knowledge,  where  shall  we  be  when  these  gaps  are 
filled  up?  And  if  they  are  never  to  be  filled  up,  is 
God  only  to  be  found  in  the  disorders  of  the  world? 
Those  who  yield  to  the  temptation  to  reserve  a  point 
here  and  there  for  special  divine  interposition  are  apt 
to  forget  that  this  virtually  excludes  God  from  the 
rest  of  the  process.  If  God  appears  periodically,  he 
disappears  periodically.  If  he  comes  upon  the  scene  at 
special  crises  he  is  absent  from  the  scene  in  the  inter- 
vals. Whether  is  all-God  or  occasional-God  the  no- 
bler theory  ?  Positively,  the  idea  of  an  immanent  God, 
which  is  the  God  of  Evolution,  is  infinitely  grander 
than  the  occasional  wonder-worker  who  is  the  God  of 
an  old  theology.  Negatively,  the  older  view  is  not 
only  the  less  worthy,  but  it  is  discredited  by  science. 
And  as  to  facts,  the  daily  miracle  of  a  flower,  the 
courses  of  the  stars,  the  upholding  and  sustaining  day 
by  day  of  this  great  palpitating  world,  need  a  living 
^\^iH  as  much  as  the  creation  of  atoms  at  the  first.  We 
know  growth  is  the  method  by  which  things  are  made 
in  Nature,  and  we  know  no  other  method.  We  do  not 
know  that  there  are  not  other  methods ;  but  if  there 
are  we  do  not  know  them.  Those  cases  which  we 
do  not  know  to  be  growths,  we  do  not  know  to  be 
anything  else,  and  we  may  at  least  suspect  them  to 
be  growths.     Nor   are  they   any  the   less  miraculous 


INVOLUTION.  335 


because  they  appear  to  us  as  growths.  A  miracle  is 
not  something  quick.  The  doings  of  these  things  may 
seem  to  us  no  miracle,  nevertheless  it  is  a  miracle  that 
they  have  been  clone. 

But,  after  all,  the  miracle  of  Evolution  is  not  the 
process,  but  the  product.  Beside  the  wonder  of  the 
result,  the  problem  of  the  process  is  a  mere  curiosity 
of  Science.  For  w'hat  is  the  product  ?  It  is  not  mount- 
ain and  valley,  sky  and  sea,  flower  and  star,  this 
glorious  and  beautiful  world  in  which  Man's  body 
finds  its  home.  It  is  not  the  god-like  gift  of  Mind 
nor  the  ordered  cosmos  where  it  finds  so  noble  an  exer- 
cise for  its  illimitable  powers.  It  is  that  which  of  all 
other  things  in  the  universe  commends  itself,  with 
increasing  sareness  as  time  goes  on,  to  the  reason  and 
to  the  heart  of  Humanity — Love.  Love  is  the  fi.nal 
result  of  Evolution.  This  is  what  stands  out  in  Nat- 
ure as  the  supreme  creation.  Evolution  is  not  prog- 
ress in  matter.  jMatter  cannot  progress.  It  is  a 
progress  in  spirit,  in  that  which  is  Ihuitless,  in  that 
which  is  at  once  most  human,  most  rational,  and  most 
divine.  Whatever  controversy  rages  as  to  the  factors 
of  Evolution,  whatever  mystery  enshrouds  its  steps, 
no  doubt  exists  of  its  goal.  The  great  landmarks  we 
have  passed,  and  we  are  not  yet  half-Avay  up  the 
Ascent,  each  separately  and  all  together  have  declared 
the  course  of  Xature  to  bo  a  rational  course,  and  its 
end  a  moral  end.  At  tlie  furthest  limit  of  time,  in 
protoplasm  itself,  we  saw  start  forth  the  two  great 
currents  which,  by  their  action  and  reaction,  as  Self- 
ishness and  Unselfishness,  were  to  sui)ply  in  ever 
accentuating  clearness  the  conditions  of  the  moral 
life.     P'ollowing  their  movements  upward  through  tlie 


33G  INVOLUTION. 


organic  kingdom,  we  watched  the  results  which  each 
achieved — always  high,  and  always  waxing  higher; 
and  though  what  we  called  Evil  dogged  each  step  v;ith 
sinister  and  sometimes  staggering  malevolence,  the 
balance  when  struck,  was  always  good  upon  the 
whole.  Then  came  the  last  great  act  of  the  organic 
process,  the  act  whicli  finally  revealed  to  teleology  its 
hitherto  obscured  end,  the  organization  of  the  Mam- 
malia, the  Kingdom  of  the  Mothers.  So  full  of  ethical 
possibility  is  this  single  creation  that  one  might  stake 
the  character  of  Evolution  upon  the  Mammalia  alone. 
On  the  biological  side,  as  we  have  seen,  the  Evolution 
of  the  Mannnalia  means  the  Evolution  of  Mothers;  on 
the  sociological  side,  the  Evolution  of  the  Family  ;  and 
on  the  moral  side,  the  Evolution  of  Love.  How  are 
we  to  characterize  a  process  which  ripened  fruits  like 
these  ?  That  the  very  animal  kingdom  had  for  its  end 
and  crown  a  class  of  animals  who  owe  their  name, 
their  place,  and  their  whole  existence  to  Altruism; 
that  through  these  Mothers  society  has  been  furnished 
with  an  institution  for  generating,  concentrating, 
purifying,  and  re-distributing  Love  in  all  its  enduring 
forms ;  that  the  perfecting  of  Love  is  thus  not  an  inci- 
dent in  Nature,  but  everywhere  the  largest  part  of  her 
task,  begun  with  the  first  beginnings  of  life,  and  con- 
tinuously developing  quantitatively  and  qualitatively 
to  the  close — all  this  has  been  read  into  Nature  by  our 
own  imaginings,  or  it  is  tlie  revelation  of  a  purpose 
of  benevolence  and  a  God  whose  name  is  Love.  The 
sceptic,  we  are  sometimes  reminded,  has  presented 
crucial  diificnltics  to  the  theist  founded  on  the 
doctrine  of  Evolution.  Here  is  a  problem  which  the 
theist  may  leave  with  the  sceptic.     That  that  which 


INVOLUTION.  337 


has  emerged  has  the  qualities  it  has,  that  even  the 
Mammalia  should  have  emerged,  that  that  class  should 
stand  related  to  the  life  of  Man  in  the  way  it  does, 
tliat  Man  has  lived  because  he  loved,  and  that  he  lives 
to  love — these,  on  any  theory  but  one,  are  insoluble 
problems. 

Forbidden  to  follow  the  Evolution  of  Love  into  the 
higlier  fields  of  history  and  society,  we  take  courage  to 
make  a  momentary  exploration  in  a  still  lower  field — 
a  field  so  far  beneath  the  plant  and  animal  level  that 
hitherto  \\q  have  not  dared  to  enter  it.  Is  it  conceiv- 
able that  in  inorganic  Nature,  among  the  very  mate- 
rial bases  of  the  world,  there  should  be  anything  to  re- 
mind us  of  the  coming  of  this  Tree  of  Life?  To  ex- 
pect even  foreshadowings  of  ethical  characters  there 
were  an  anachronism  too  great  for  expression.  Yet 
there  is  something  there,  something  which  is  at  least 
worth  recalling  in  the  present  connection. 

The  earliest  condition  in  which  Science  allows  us  to 
picture  this  globe  is  that  of  a  fiery  mass  of  nebulous 
matter.  At  the  second  stage  it  consists  of  countless 
myriads  of  similar  atoms,  roughly  outlined  into  a  rag- 
ged cloud-ball,  glowing  with  heat,  and  rotating  in 
space  with  inconceivable  velocity.  By  what  means 
can  this  mass  be  broken  up,  or  broken  down,  or  made 
into  a  solid  world  ?  By  two  things — mutual  attrac- 
tion and  chemical  affinity.  The  moment  when  within 
this  cloud-ball  the  conditions  of  coolii-.g  temperature 
are  such  that  two  atoms  could  combine  together 
the  cause  of  the  Evolution  of  the  Earth  is  won.  For 
this  pair  of  atoms  arc  chemically  "stronger"  than  any 
of  the  atoms  immediately  surrounding  them.  Gradu- 
ally, by  attraction  or  afiinity,  the  primitive  pair  of 
22 


338  INVOLUTION. 


atoms — like  the  first  pair  of  savages — absorb  a  third 
atom,  and  a  fourth,  and  a  fifth,  until  u  "  Family  "  of 
atoms  is  raised  up  which  possesses  properties  and 
powers  altogether  new,  and  in  virtue  of  which  it  holds 
within  its  grasp  the  conquest  and  servitude  of  all 
surrounding  units.  From  this  growing  centre,  attrac- 
tion radiates  on  every  side,  until  (^  larger  aggregate,  a 
family  group — a  Tribe — arises  and  starts  a  more 
powerful  centre  of  its  own.  "With  every  additional 
atom  added,  the  power  as  well  as  the  complexity  of  the 
combination  increases.  As  the  process  goes  on,  after 
endless  vicissitudes,  repulsions,  and  readjustm^erits;. 
the  changes  become  fewer  and  fewer,  the  conflict  be- 
tween mass  and  mass  dies  down,  the  elements  passinff 
through  various  stages  of  liquidity  finally  combine  \xt 
the  order  of  their  affinities,  arrange  themselves  in  the 
order  of  their  densities,  and  the  solid  earth  is  finished. 
Now  recall  the  names  of  the  leading  actors  in  this 
stupendous  reformation.  They  are  two  in  number> 
mutual  attraction  and  chemical  affinity.  Notice  these 
words — Attraction,  Affinity.  Notice  that  the  great 
formative  forces  of  physical  Evolution  have  psychical 
names.  It  is  idle  to  discuss  whether  there  is  or  can  be 
any  identity  between  the  thing  represented  in  the  one 
case  and  in  the  other.  Obviously  there  cannot  be. 
Yet  this  does  not  exhaust  the  interest  of  the  analogy. 
In  reality,  neither  here  nor  anywhere,  have  we  any 
knowledge  whatever  of  what  is  actually  meant  b}'-  At- 
traction; nor,  in  the  one  sphere  or  in  the  other,  have 
we  even  the  means  of  approximating  to  such  knowl- 
edge. To  Newton  himself  the  very  conception  of  one 
atom  or  one  mass,  attracting  through  empty  space 
another  atom  or  another  mass,  put  his  mental  powers 


INVOLUTION.  339 


to  confusion.  And  as  to  the  term  Affinity,  tlie  most 
recent  Chemistry,  finding  it  utterly  unfaUiomable  in 
itself,  confines  its  research  at  present  to  the  investiga- 
tion of  its  modes  of  action.  Science  does  not  know 
indeed  what  forces  are  ;  it  only  classifies  them.  Here, 
as  in  every  deep  recess  of  physical  Nature,  w©  are  in 
the  presence  of  that  which  is  metaphysical,  that  which 
bars  the  way  imperiously  at  every  turn  to  a  material- 
istic interpretation  of  the  woi-ld.  Yet  name  and 
nature  of  force  apart,  what  affinity  even  the  grossest, 
what  likeness  even  the  most  remote,  could  one  have 
expected  to  trace  between  the  gradual  aggregation  of 
units  of  matter  in  the  condensation  of  a  weltering 
star,  and  the  slow  segregation  of  men  in  the  oi-gani- 
zation  of  societies  and  nations?  However  difi;erent  the 
agents,  is  there  no  suggestion  that  they  are  difi'erent 
stages  of  a  uniform  process,  different  epochs  of  one 
great  historical  enterprise,  different  results  of  a  single 
evolutionary  law  ? 

Read  from  the  root,  we  define  this  age-long  process 
by  a  word  borrowed  from  the  science  of  roots— a  word 
from  the  clay — Evolution.  But  read  from  the  top, 
Evolution  is  an  impossible  word  to  describe  it.  The 
word  is  Involution.  It  is  not  a  Stigmaria  world,  but 
a  Sigillaria  world;  a  spiritual,  not  a  material  universe. 
^Evolution  is  Advolution  ;  better,  it  is  lievelation — the 
phenomenal  expression  of  the  Divine,  the  progressive 
realization  of  the  Ideal,  the  Ascent  of  Love.  Evolu- 
tion is  a  doctrine  of  unimaginable  grandeur.  That 
Man  should  discern  the  prelude  to  his  destiny  in  the 
voices  of  the  stars  ;  that  the  heart  of  Nature  should  be 
a  so  human  heart  ;  that  its  eternal  enterprise  should 
be  one  with  his  ideals  ;    that  even  in   the  Universe 


340  IJSVOLUTION. 


be5^oiid,  the  Keason  which  presides  should  have  so 
strange  a  kinship  with  that  measure  of  it  wliich  he 
calls  his  own ;  that  he,  an  atom  in  that  Universe, 
should  dare  to  feel  himself  at  home  witliin  it,  should 
stand  beside  Immensity,  Infinity,  Eternity,  unaf- 
frighted  and  undismayed — these  things  bewilder  JMan 
the  more  that  they  bewilder  him  so  little. 

But  one  verdict  is  possible  as  to  the  practical  import 
of  this  great  doctrine,  as  to  its  bearing  upon  the  in- 
dividual life  and  the  future  of  the  race.  Evolution 
has  ushered  a  new  hope  into  the  world.  The  supreme  , 
message  of  science  to  this  age  is  that  all  Nature  is  on 
the  side  of  the  man  who  tries  to  rise.  Evolution, 
development,  progress  are  not  only  on  her  programme, 
these  are  her  programme.  For  all  things  are  rising, 
all  worlds,  all  planets,  all  stars  and  suns.  An  ascend- 
ing energy  is  in  the  universe,  and  the  whole  moves  on 
with  one  mighty  idea  and  anticipation.  The  aspira- 
tion in  the  human  mind  and  heart  is  but  the  evolu- 
tionary tendency  of  the  universe  becoming  conscious. 
Darwin's  great  discovery,  or  the  discovery  which  he 
brought  into  prominence,  is  the  same  as  Galileo's — 
that  the  world  moves.  The  Italian  prophet  said  it 
moves  from  west  to  east ;  the  English  philosopher  said 
it  moves  from  low  to  high.  And  this  is  the  last  and 
most  splendid  contribution  of  science  to  the  faith  of 
the  world. 

""^j'he  discovery  of  a  second  motion  in  the  earth  has 
come  into  the  world  of  thought  only  in  time  to  save 
it  from  despair.  As  in  the  days  of  Galileo,  there  are 
many  even  now  who  do  not  see  that  the  world  moves 
— men  to  whom  the  earth  is  but  an  endless  plain,  a 
prison  fixed  in  a  purposeless  universe  where  untried 


INVOLUTIOX.  341 


prisoners  await  their  unknown  fate.  It  is  not  the 
monotony  of  life  wliicli  destroys  men,  but  its  point- 
lessness ;  tliey  can  bear  its  weiglit,  its  meaninglessness 
cruslies  them.  But  the  same  great  revolution  that 
the  discovery  of  the  axial  rotation  of  the  earth  effected 
in  the  realm  of  physics,  the  announcement  of  the 
doctrine  of  Evolution  makes  in  the  moral  world. 
Already,  even  in  these  days  of  its  dawn,  a  sudden  and 
marvellous  light  has  fallen  upon  earth  and  heaven. 
Evolution  is  less  a  doctrine  than  a  light;  it  is  a  light 
revealing  in  the  chaos  of  the  past  a  perfect  and  grow- 
ing order,  giving  meaning  even  to  the  confusions  of  the 
present,  discovering  through  all  the  deviousness 
around  us  the  paths  of  progress,  and  Hashing  its  rivys 
already  upon  a  coming  goal.  ]\Ien  begin  to  see  an 
undeviating  ethical  purpose  in  this  material  world,  a 
tide,  that  from  eternity  has  never  turned,  making  for 
perfectness.  In  that  vast  progression  of  Nature,  that 
vision  of  all  things  from  the  first  of  time  movmg  from 
low  to  high,  from  incompleteness  to  completeness, 
from  imperfection  to  perfection,  the  moral  nature  rec- 
ognizes in  all  its  height  and  depth  the  eternal  claim 
upon  itself.  Wholeness,  perfection,  love — these  have 
always  been  required  of  Man.  But  never  before  on 
the  natural  plane  have  they  been  proclaimed  by  voices 
so  commanding,  or  enforced  by  sanctions  so  great  and 
rational. 

Is  Xature  hencefortli  to  become  the  ethical  teacher 
of  the  world?  Shall  its  aims  become  the  guide,  its 
spirit  the  inspiration  of  JMan's  life?  Is  therp  no 
ground  here  wliei'c  all  the  faiths  and  all  the  creeds 
may  meet — nay,  no  ground  for  a  final  faiili  and  a  final 
creed?    If  all  men  could  see   the  inner  meaning:  and 


342  INVOLUTICN. 


''^aspiration  of  the  natural  order  should  we  not  find  at 
last  a  universal  religion — a  religion  congruous  with 
the  whole  past  of  Man,  at  one  with  Nature,  and  with 
a  working  creed  which  Science  could  accept  ? 

The  answer  is  a  simple  one :  We  have  it  already. 
There  exists  a  religion  which  has  anticipated  all  these 
requirements — a  religion  which  has  been  before  the 
world  these  eighteen  hundred  years,  whose  congruity 
with  Nature  and  with  Man  stands  the  tests  at  every 
point.  Up  to  this  time  no  word  has  been  spoken  to 
reconcile  Christianity  with  E\olution,  or  Evolution 
with  Christianity.  And  why  ?  Because  the  tAvo  are 
one.  Wliat  is  Evolution  ?  A  method  of  creation. 
What  is  its  object?  To  make  more  perfect  living 
beings.  What  is  Christianity?  A  method  of  crea- 
tion. What  is  its  object?  To  make  more  perfect 
living  beings.  Through  what  does  Evolution  work? 
I'hrough  Love.  Through  what  does  Christianity 
work?  Through  Love.  Evolution  and  Christianity 
have  the  same  Author,  the  same  end,  the  same  spirit. 
There  is  no  rivalry  between  these  processes.  Chris- 
tianity struck  into  the  Evolutionary  process  with  no 
noise  or  shock ;  it  upset  nothing  of  all  that  had 
been  done ;  it  took  all  the  natural  foundations  pre- 
cisely as  it  found  them  ;  it  adopted  Man's  body,  mind, 
and  soul  at  the  exact  level  where  Organic  Evolution 
was  at  work  upon  them  j  it  carried  on  the  building  by 
slow  and  gradual  modifications ;  and,  through  pro- 
cesses governed  by  rational  laws,  it  put  the  finishing 
_  touches  to  the  Ascent  of  Man. 

Xo  man  can  run  up  the  natural  lines  of  Evolution 
without  coming  to  Christianity  at  the  top.  One  holds 
no  brief  to  buttress   Christianity  in  this  way.    But 


INVOLUriOX.  343 


science  has  to  deal  with  facts  and  with  all  facts,  and 
the  facts  and  processes  which  liave  received  the  name 
of  Christian  are  the  continuations  of  the  scientific 
order,  as  much  the  successors  of  these  facts  and  the 
continuations  of  these  processes — due  allowances  be- 
ing made  for  the  differences  in  the  planes,  and  for  the 
new  factors  which  appear  with  each  new  plane — as 
the  facts  and  processes  of  biology  are  of  those  of  the 
mineral  world.  We  land  here,  not  from  choice,  but 
from  necessity.  Christianity — it  is  not  said  any  par- 
ticular form  of  Christianity — but  Christianity,  is  the 
Further  Evolution. 

"The  glory  of  Christianity,"  urged  Jowett,  "is  not 
to  be  as  unlike  other  religions  as  possible,  but  to 
be  their  perfection  and  fulfilment."  The  divinity  of 
Christianity,  it  might  be  added,  is  not  to  be  as  unlike 
Kature  as  possible,  but  to  be  its  coronation ;  the  ful- 
filment of  its  promise  ;  the  rallying  point  of  its  forces  ; 
the  beginning  not  of  a  new  end,  but  of  an  infinite 
acceleration  of  the  processes  by  which  the  end,  eternjil 
from  the  beginning,  was  henceforth  to  be  realized. 
A  religion  which  is  Love  and  a  Nature  which  is  Love 
can  never  but  be  one.  The  infinite  exaltation  in  qual- 
ity is  what  the  progressive  revelation  from  the  begin- 
ning has  taught  us  to  expect.  Christianity,  truly,  has 
its  own  phenomena,  its  special  processes,  its  factors 
altogetlier  unique.  But  these  do  not  excommunicate 
it  from  God's  order.  They  are  in  line  with  all  that 
has  gone  before,  the  latest  disclosure  of  Environment. 
Most  strange  to  us  and  new,  most  miraculous  and 
supernatural  when  looked  at  from  beneath,  they 
are  the  normal  plienomcna  ot  altitude,  the  revelation 
natural  to  the  hig-hest  heiffht.     While  Evolution  never 


344  INVOLUTION. 


deviates  from  its  course,  it  assumes  new  developments 
at  every  stage  of  the  Ascent ;  and  here,  as  the  h\st  and 
highest,  these  specializations,  accelerations,  modifica- 
tions, are  most  revolutionary  of  all.  For  the  evolving 
products  are  now  no  lojiger  the  prey  and  tool  of  the 
Struggle  for  Life — the  normal  dynamic  of  the  world's 
youth.  For  them  its  appeal  is  vain ;  its  force  is 
spent;  a  quicker  road  to  progress  has  been  found. 
No  longer  driven  from  below  by  the  Animal  Struggle, 
they  are  drawn  upward  from  above ;  no  longer  com- 
pelled by  hate  or  hunger,  by  rivalry  or  fear,  they  feel 
impelled  by  Love ;  they  realize  the  dignity  reserved 
for  Man  alone  in  evolving  through  Ideals.  This  de- 
•velopment  through  Ideals,  the  Perfect  Ideal  through 
which  all  others  come,  are  the  unique  phenomena  of 
the  closing  act — unique  not  because  they  are  out  of 
relation  to  what  has  gone  before,  but  because  the 
phenomena  of  the  summit  are  different  from  the 
phenomena  of  the  plain.  Apart  from  these,  and  not 
absolutely  apart  from  these — for  nothing  in  the  world 
can  be  absolutely  apart  from  anything  else,  there  is 
nothing  in  Christianity  which  is  not  in  germ  in  Nat- 
ture.  It  is  not  an  excrescence  on  Nature  but  its  efflo- 
rescence. It  is  not  a  side  track  where  a  few  enthu- 
siasts live  impracticable  lives  on  impossible  ideals.  It 
is  the  main  stream  of  history  and  of  science,  and  the 
only  current  set  from  eternity  for  the  progress  of  the 
world  and  the  perfecting  of  a  human  race. 

We  began  these  chapters  with  the  understanding 
that  Evolution  is  history,  the  scientific  history  of 
the  world.  Christianity  is  history,  a  history  of  some 
of  the  later  steps  in  the  Evolution  of  the  world.  The 
continuity  between   them  is  a  continuity   of  spirit  j 


INVOLUTION.  345 


their  forms  are  different,  their  forces  confluent. 
Christianity  did  not  begin  at  tlie  Cliristian  era,  it 
is  as  old  as  Nature;  did  not  drop  like  a  bolt  from 
Eternity,  came  in  the  fulness  of  Time.  The  attempt 
to  prove  an  alibi  for  Christianity,  to  show  that  it  was 
in  the  skies  till  the  Cliristian  ei'a  opened,  is  as  fatal  to 
its  acceptance  by  Science  as  it  is  useless  for  defence  to 
Theolog-y.  What  emerges  from  Nature  as  the  final 
result  of  Creation  is  tlie  lower  potentiality  of  the  same 
principle  which  is  the  instrument  and  end  of  the  new 
Creation. 

The  attempt  of  Science,  on  the  other  hand,  to  hold 
itself  aloof  from  the  later  phases  of  developments 
which  in  their  earlier  stages  it  so  devotes  itself  to 
trace,  is  either  ignorance  or  affectation.  For  that 
Altruism  which  we  found  struggling  to  express  itself 
throughout  the  whole  course  of  Nature,  what  is  it? 
"  Altruism  is  the  new  and  very  affected  name  for  tlie 
old  familiar  things  Avhich  we  used  to  call  Charity, 
Philanthropy,  and  Love."  ^  Only  by  shutting  its  eyes 
can  Science  evade  the  discovery  of  the  roots  of  Chris- 
tianity in  every  province  that  it  enters ;  and  when  it 
does  discover  them,  only  by  disguising  words  can  it 
succeed  in  disowning  the  relationship.  There  is  noth- 
ing unscientific  in  accepting  that  relationship;  there 
is  much  that  is  unscientific  in  dishonoring  it.  The 
Will  behind  Evolution  is  not  dead ;  the  heai-t  of 
Nature  is  not  stilled.  Love  not  only  was;  it  is;  it 
moves ;  it  spreads.  To  ignore  the  later  and  most 
striking  phases  is  to  fail  to  see  what  the  earlier  pro- 
cess really  was,  and  to  leave  the  ancient  task  of 
Evolution  historically  incomplete.  That  Christian 
^  Duke  of  Argyll,  Edinburgh  Review,  April,  1894. 


346  INVOLUTION. 


development,  social,  moral,  spiritual,  which  is  going 
on  around  us,  is  as  real  an  evolutionary  movement 
as  any  that  preceded  it,  and  at  least  as  capable  of 
scientific  expression.  A  system  founded  on  Self- 
Sacrifice,  whose  fittest  symbol  is  the  Leaven,  whose 
organic  development  has  its  natural  analogy  in  the 
growth  of  a  Mustard  Tree,  is  not  a  foreign  thing  to  the 
Evolutionist  ;  and  that  prophet  of  the  Kingdom  of  God 
was  no  less  the  spokesman  of  Nature  when  he  proclaimed 
that  the  end  of  Man  is  "  that  which  we  had  from  the 
beginning,  that  we  love." 

In  the  profoundest  sense,  this  is  scientific  doctrine. 
The  Ascent  of  Man  and  of  Society  is  bound  up  hence- 
forth with  the  conflict,  the  intensification,  and  the 
diffusion  of  the  Struggle  for  the  Life  of  Others.  This 
is  the  Further  Evolution,  the  page  of  history  that  lies 
before  us,  tlie  closing  act  of  the  drama  of  Man.  The 
Struggle  may  be  short  or  long ;  but  by  all  scientific 
analogy  the  result  is  sure.  All  the  other  Kingdoms 
of  Nature  culminated;  Evolution  always  attains; 
always  rounds  off  its  work.  It  spent  an  eternity  over 
the  earth,  but  finished  it.  It  struggled  for  millen- 
niums to  bring  the  Vegetable  Kingdom  up  to  the 
Flowering  Plants,  and  succeeded.  In  the  Animal 
Kingdom  it  never  paused  until  the  possibilities  of 
organization  were  exhausted  in  the  Mammalia.  Kindled 
by  this  past,  Man  may  surely  say,  "1  shall  arrive." 
The  Further  Evolution  must  go  on,  the  Higher  King- 
dom come — first  the  blade,  where  we  are  to-day  ;  then 
the  ear,  where  we  shall  be  to-morrow  ;  then  the  full 
corn  in  the  ear,  which  awaits  our  children's  children, 
and  which  we  live  to  hasten. 


FINIS. 


A^ 


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m 

Ufit 


DEC    3 


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JUN2fi'ffi^1 

llflAR  2  3  I960 


V 


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DEC  5  01960 


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